Antebellum
by Sforzanna
Summary: Book One. Vernetta Holbrook was just a rich girl in Brooklyn looking to live the regular life. After meeting a cocky charmer and timid sweetheart, life was as exciting as it would get. Then Pearl Harbor happened and the country, along with her two best friends, mobilized for war. What will happen to Vernetta and her friends? What will become of them after the war? If they survive…
1. Chapter 1: 1936

Full Summary: Vernetta Holbrook was just a rich girl in Brooklyn looking to live the regular life. After meeting a cocky charmer and timid sweetheart, life was as exciting as it would get. Then Pearl Harbor happened and the country, along with her two best friends, mobilized for war. Vernetta herself was unjustly thrown into the war, facing cruelty and hardship all around. What will happen to Vernetta and her friends? What will become of them after the war? If they survive…

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter One: 1936

Summer was soon to come yet the heat nestled in the brick and concrete of Brooklyn. The entire borough simmered under the sun, loud neighborhoods yelling curses to the sky and quiet ones remaining indoors to avoid the heat. Either way, everyone suffered. Vernetta and Amelia had fans roaring inside the shop causing the racks of dresses and dress shirts to sway back and forth. It still wasn't enough.

"I swear my lipstick is running." Vernetta mumbled into a nearby mirror.

She ignored Amelia's snort and subsequent eyeroll in favor of lightly patting the scarlet staining her lips. It was an addiction of her's, to have bright lips even when wiping the lipstick off. It didn't seem to droop past the border between lip and skin, yet Vernetta fretted.

"Well lucky me I don't cake it on." Amelia fired.

Hand on hip and brow high, Vernetta turned to her friend. Her eyes were like daggers, face twisting into disbelief.

" _Cake_? I look stunning as usual. You are just a mannequin at my side." She smirked as did Amelia.

Friends. Co-workers. Roommates. Insults to them were a way of communication, a basis of friendship all partnerships share. These two mouthy girls kicked it up a notch and Amelia had a glimmer in her eye.

"You _stun_ everyone like Medusa, hon."

"Ooh, how cold."

They silently laughed, air shooting out of nostrils rapidly before composing themselves. They always worried a customer would enter to only see them goof off, as if the day wasn't slow. It was practically a wasteland in there.

Vernetta and Amelia waltzed around, tugging shirts and straightening skirts to the soft tune of Glenn Miller's beautiful orchestra. Yet, they were definitely not in the mood. Five hours gone, three more to come. The radio, somehow knowing the woes of those who listened, changed from classic to modern. Ella Fitzgerald's lovely voice rang throughout the shop, light drums and sultry trumpets. Amelia threw her hands up dramatically pointing nose to ceiling.

"Preach Ella!" She cried. "It's too darn hot!"

"Hot enough to fry a damn egg on the sidewalk, I tell you."

Then Benny Goodman and his famous clarinet came on air with the song that everyone sees Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dance to without flaw. With the first beat of the drum, Vernetta's face lit up with excitement. Cherry red lips formed a tight "O" before transforming into a crescent. It was _her_ song, after all.

"Amelia! Dance with me!" She wasted no time in grabbing her hands.

They quickly stepped in front of the counter where their horde of customers should be. The emptiness created the most perfect dancing space, even with the racks hugging the edge.

"Alright, I'm Ginger, you're Fred."

"Awe, c'mon!" Amelia protested. "How come you're always Ginger?"

"Because I obviously have the Rogers' charm." Vernetta flipped her hair, tugging her friend's hand tightly onto her waist.

The brass instruments roared above the drums and Vernetta launched the pair in the air. Intricate steps, patterns, and moves were spot on. Even Amelia, who didn't even like the song, was perfect. Their tight skirts flopped in the air like wings with each bounce and twirl to the beat along with their hair. They spun with such speed that everything was a great blur. Vernetta had five spins to realize that customers were entering, quickly pulling out with one final, and violent, swoosh of skirt and hair. A cringe and smile melded.

Two young men and two older women were standing at the door, simply watching them. Two were dark-haired and eyed, and the other the opposite. Both were incredibly handsome but the dark-haired one was more confident about it. The small blonde kept moving his eyes from floor to woman without interference. Vernetta smirked, cocking her head.

"Welcome to No.19." She stepped towards the group. "I'm Vernetta, that's Amelia. How may we help you today?"

With her words, she shook each of their hands. The women, obviously the young men's mothers, had a light squeeze and shake. The same could be said with the tall one. Yet when Vernetta slid her hand into the smaller one's, his grip was firm and his shake was firm. Startling given his appearance, but it only intrigued her even more.

"Boy, you two are great dancers." The tall one smiled.

"Why thank you."

"Which one of you were Astaire and Rogers?"

"Why, _she_ was Rogers." Amelia joined them, saving the group from Vernetta's own gloating. "She's blonde and blue-eyed and gorgeous. Not to mention a wonderful dancer."

The tall one had a mischievous grin with her words. He slapped a hand on the short one's shoulder.

"That's funny because Steve here is a Rogers in the flesh."

That certainly piqued Vernetta's interest. She arched a brow looking into the friend's eyes.

"Oh really?"

"Well not like that, but yeah." _Steve_ as he was called awkwardly replied.

His cheeks had a tint of red coloring flesh.

"Well you're still quite good looking." His cheeks burned bright pink.

Their mothers, tired of the young generation and their loose morals, explained the situation concerning a high school graduation. New suits for the occasion that can be recycled for others down the road. No.19 was, after all, advertised to be Upper East Side with Windsor Terrace prices. The women lounged in the waiting area as both consultants and young men delved deeper in the store. Vernetta chose to stay with Steve, to poke at him for the duration of this visit. There was something about him the radiated interest. Looks aside, Vernetta knew that this was just a thin surface. That, and he smelled much better than the others who came to shop.

* * *

She grabbed appropriate pieces from all over the shop. Raiding the racks, drawers and walls was indeed her job, and she was careful to get Steve's input. He was a fan of tan and blue, clearly avoiding anything that would draw attention. Plaid also won him over.

"What, no solids or stripes? _Pinstripes_?" Her confusion was a shared sentiment.

"No?" Steve hesitated. "I'll look like a scrawny gangster."

"Oh."

She had to turn away to stifle her laughs. A snort slipped out but Vernetta shoved Steve into one of the dressing rooms before he could react.

"Try on everything and tell me what you think!" She yelled through the curtain while handing over the hangers. "If you need help, you better be _fully dressed_!"

Steve grabbed them silently, mumbling his reply.

Vernetta only heard the soft clinking of metal and constant shuffling. The fabric crinkled and bent with his movement. She could only guess the sudden pause was his inspection, yet it was always rushed for the noise began to stir once more.

"How is it in there?" Vernetta called.

"Just fine."

Simultaneously, she wanted to be pushy and courteous. Only the voice of Ethel Waters filled the awkward space between them.

"Well you haven't said a word!"

"I'm trying on things…"

Obviously. Steve wasn't sewing himself a brand new suit in there. Vernetta tucked some stray hairs behind her ear, huffing out a great sigh. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall waiting for some of positive something.

The rings screeched against the bar. Steve emerged from the dark curtains, dressed albeit disheveled. The consultant's face twisted into a sour expression.

"You're in your own clothes?"

"I didn't like what you picked." He shrugged.

"That _you_ picked."

A red nail pointed at the small young man. In a heartbeat, Vernetta made sure to correct him with the help of tone and look. She went on to inquire about his silent, yet the answer was the same. She rolled her eyes.

"Your mother expects to walk out of here with clothes fit for a graduate. You need a suit or a nice-" Vernetta paused.

She studied Steve. He appeared to be on the same page but was...sad? His shoulders were slumped and he wouldn't even dare look into her eyes. She was scolding him like a mother would to a young child. It seemed he wasn't used to being dressed up, pampered if Vernetta was broad enough.

"Look," she calmed her voice, "my job is to listen to people and get them what they want. _Clearly_ , you have no idea what you want."

Steve nodded.

"If I pick something out, will you try it on and let me see it?"

She didn't want to humiliate the poor man, talking down to him as if he were a child. The heat had boiled down her patience and an unresponsive customer only lowered that limit.

"Yeah, I guess." Defeated, he shrugged his compliance.

Steve waited in the dressing room as Vernetta reemerged. It had been minutes, more so than she thought when Mrs. Rogers approached her with worry upon her aged face.

"Is everything alright?" She asked. "I know my son can be difficult."

"Your concern is misplaced. _I_ am picking something out and he _will_ try it on."

"Well if he likes it, then you my dear are a godsend."

Damn. His own _mother_ was against him. Vernetta reminded herself to pick something extra special or else her time was wasted along with Mrs. Rogers'.

* * *

"Alright, sweetie, please please _please_ let me see this on you."

Vernetta handed each piece in one-by-one, handing off a matching tie before retracting and waiting. She left him alone this time, careful not to be that stereotypical pushy consultant. He seemed to be the quiet and introverted kind of guy. Awkward, mostly, and not talking only made the air more stale.

"So, where're you graduating?"

"George Washington."

"I've heard it's a good school."

"It's decent."

Several moments passed filled only with muffled movement and impatient huffs. It wasn't until the screech of metal on metal that annoyance evolved into astonishment. Both long brows arched north instead of just one, a gasp turning lips into a bright beam.

"By god, you look absolutely _stunning_."

Steve didn't know what to do with his hands. Vernetta put her own to work, directing his eyes to the wall mirror and adjusting the suit wherever needed.

"Pinstripes are the way to go." She smirked.

"Well, if I look good…"

Vernetta straightened her back wrapping her arms around Steve only a hover away from resting on his small shoulders. Her nimble fingers toyed with the tie until it was perfect. The closeness between the two also allowed the consultant to speak more intimately.

"A man should know every aspect of his best suit, should he not?"

The curious glint in his eye was an acceptable answer and she continued.

It was a three-piece suit consisting of a double breasted coat, trousers and the matching vest. It was a navy blue material with teal pinstripes, complimenting features Steve didn't even know he possessed. It fitted him quite nicely; like a glove, even. Also to note was the great waist suppression on the jacket. The lapels, styled in the Peaked make, were fairly wide but not yet as wide as some bolder lapels in fashion were. Very little shoulder padding allowed for his natural shoulder shape to show, yet there was enough to make them broader to the eye. Here he was, a fashionable young man. Vernetta couldn't help combing his hair as she continued, suddenly fixated on the figure before her.

"You just comb your hair nicely and make sure your tie is perfect. Then you're ready."

Her eyes popped. He was definitely _not_ ready. Something was still missing! Cocking her head, Vernetta pursed her cherry lips and squinted in thought. He has the jacket, the vest, trousers, tie, it seemed to be all Steve needed. Then it hit her like the heat.

"Oh! I know what I forgot!" She exclaimed.

Reaching into her skirt pocket, the consultant pulled out a starch white handkerchief. She folded it into the proper shape and tucked it softly into the breast pocket.

Vernetta fell in love with the image before her. Steve somehow looked grown up, perhaps even a bit professional. All by her lovely hand. She leaned forward, resting her hands and a chin on his shoulder without faltering her smile. Her fingers squeezed lightly.

"Well, this is about _your_ opinion. Will you give it a voice?"

Steve studied himself in the mirror and Vernetta could only guess what ran through his mind.

"Any guy would envy you as would any girl would want to be with you."

He scoffed at the comment. An actual smile even if it was a forced one. He glanced down smiling for the wrong reasons. He looked back up and met Vernetta's eyes for the first time.

"No one wants to be me or with me." He smirked.

"There has to be a good reason."

He didn't seem like the type to be rude or bully. No, Steve looked like the guy who would receive such sentiment.

"You know what I look like."

"More like a person than a troll like you seem to believe."

He opened his mouth but Vernetta stopped him.

"You're quite handsome, believe it or not. And besides, it's what's on the inside that counts."

"That's what they say to ugly people."

Both of them smiled at his remark. Steve even chuckled a bit. He loosened the tie, tugging it away from him before slinking off the coat revealing vest and shirt. Vernetta had back away, so he turned to address her in person.

"I'll take the set." A corner of his mouth turned upward.

He didn't quite realize what he did. He still didn't after the fact, but Vernetta did. Head angled down, eyes looking up, the half smile, this young man had charm without the confidence. No, his friend stole most of that. But after beating himself up about his looks, it was those qualities that won Vernetta over.

"If a stranger tells you that you're handsome compared to bullies you've known for years, can you guess what's the truth?"

Rhetoric acted as an ally and Vernetta fetched boxes and wrapping paper with the upper hand of the conversation. With a man like that, she must've bitten her lip without even knowing it. She returned to the dressing room and packaged everything with special care after Steve was fully dressed. He went out to the front to discuss things with his mother. With this solitude, Vernetta faced the mirror and barred her teeth. His natural charm was confirmed with red staining the corners of several teeth.

* * *

"I just need fifteen from you."

"Fifteen?!" Steve looked over her shoulders. "You know you need much more than that."

"My suit my price. Besides," Vernetta leaned over the counter, "as there may be a price for beauty, there isn't one for confidence."

She took the money in his hand watching him reel from the shock. She rang the order, writing down each item on the receipt purposely mixing up her sevens with twos and so on. " _Vernetta Holbrook"_ was written in the consultant line but paused when she jumped down to the customer line.

"Say, do I write your name or your mother's?"

"Mine." Steve instantly answered. "Write mine."

She did as she was told, writing his name in pretty font before turning it over to him.

"I need your signature then."

And Steve did as he was told, being gifted his suit and the white copy whereas Vernetta kept his money and the yellow copy after she separated the two slips. But Vernetta retracted, instead offering herself.

"You said George Washington, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You wouldn't mind if Amelia and I dropped by? Afterall, we would love to see our suits in action."

Her eyes were low, head tilted down, mouth puckered and only half smiling. Unlike Steve, Vernetta knew what she was doing. The young man himself shyly smiled, looking away to avoid such an intense look. But then he faced her, with confidence might she add.

"Anyone and everyone is welcome." His shyness blossomed into friendliness.

The consultant brought the receipt to her face, planting her lips onto the clean paper. She passed it off with a couple of fingers retaining her composure.

"Well, then I look forward to it."

* * *

"That broad seemed to be, uh, _interested_ , amiright?" Bucky nudged Steve.

Both of them were several steps ahead of their mothers, allowing them the freedom to talk freely about No.19. They handed off their suits to them but Steve was careful to keep the receipt. He wasn't going to have a little chat about girls with his mother, that was for sure."

"She seemed a bit pushy."

"Well, what would you expect?" Bucky shrugged. "She wanted to make you look good and you refused the first time."

No one had really dressed him up before, save his mother. The consultant, Vernetta her name was, was meticulous about the look. She loved pinstripes and dark colors. Even more so when they were combined. She wanted that on him even if it would kill her. Then Steve thought some more.

"Do you think girls dress up guys in a way that makes them more attractive to them?"

"Certainly. Why'd you ask?"

"Well, she bit her lip the whole time-"

"Stop right there." Bucky held up a hand. "That's the biggest sign of a gal liking you."

Steve went on the explain the touchiness, the handkerchief, the school and the receipt. Every time he would explain each subject, Bucky's theory became more realistic.

"Ooh, a broad's _very_ interested, my friend. How does it feel?"

Steve, honest to god, didn't know. No girl's ever been interested. If so, it was a cruel joke. This Vernetta could be playing with his mind and emotions. His hopes weren't high, but something within told him that this strange feeling burning inside felt _good._

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much for reading! This chapter is kind of cheesy, but everything has to start from something! Plus, the First Avenger was really cheesy, so it fits in a way! I hope you enjoyed it!**


	2. Chapter 2: Graduation

**A/N: So I'm finally throwing my hat into the MCU fanfiction ring. Honestly, I've been in love with Captain America since forever and Civil War definitely gave me the inspiration I needed to start. This is going to start several years earlier from the First Avenger and this will definitely be a novel-kind of piece. I'm loving pre-Captain America and especially Pre-Serum!Steve. If you love fanfictions with depth, I truly hope you'll enjoy this! Also shout-out to** **Anastasia Lolita** **for the very first review and to the 5 faves and 7 follows! You guys rock!**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter 2: Graduation

"Jesus Christ, it's _hot._ " Vernetta fanned herself.

It was the end of May, the sun at its peak of cruelty in the upcoming season. A large gathering, _outside_ no less, would certainly result in plenty of fainting spells. Those poor students in their gowns zipped up on top of thick suits. Vernetta felt guilty about the suit now. This Steve could faint because of her. Amelia shared the same sentiment about the one she knew as Bucky.

"I heard it's suppose to be pleasant around that time." Her friend attempted to ease their minds. "The hottest days are suppose to be in July."

"With this kind of heat, we'd all be dead by then."

Vernetta chose a cream-tan dress. The heat made her decide on a tighter, less airy skirt with short sleeves. There was no way in hell she was going to wear the small travel cape and was quickly detached and tossed onto the bed.

"You're more than welcome to choose anything you like." Vernetta reminded Amelia, being met only with a smirk.

"I don't want to look blatantly upper class. With the two of us, they might expect a grand donation."

Well, there was that. Vernetta, with all her boasting about wanting to live the simple American life, still preferred the fashions from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Without that expertise in the fine and refined, she very well couldn't run a clothing store with confidence bordering haughtiness.

"Well what are you going to wear then?"

"I don't see what that's important."

Amelia simply grabbed a white day dress much to Vernetta's chagrin. A tousle of hair wasn't enough, and her bare neck and ears felt like Vernetta was witnessing a crime.

"My dear, you can't go out looking like _that_."

Still only in her garter and bra, Vernetta shuffled Amelia to their boudoir immediately beginning her work.

"The white added with the sun will completely drown you out, Emi." Vernetta sighed. "You need boldness somewhere."

"Lipstick is all I'm willing to do."

Through the mirror, Vernetta shot her a most disapproving look.

"And some jewelry, but that's it!"

Pinning her hair and spraying the final product, Vernetta dug through her jewelry collection. Amelia wanted to be simple, so she clasped pearls around her neck and fastened them to her ears.

"I trust you can do this yourself." She handed off the tube.

Vernetta slid on the dress as Amelia worked on creating perfect lips. Matching creme shoes, hair done up to comfortable wear a cloche hat, matching of course, and held rounded sunglasses in her hand.

"You always liked the old look." Amelia laughed. "What is that? Twenties?"

"Twenty-five to be exact."

 _No doubt a gift from her mother_ , Amelia thought. "Lady Holbrook" as she so often thought of her friend's mother was a true woman of the day, flaunting and flapping her youth.

"You alright?" She noticed Vernetta tugging on the small necktie.

"Just hungry, is all."

"We'll eat before we sit through that nonsense."

Turning in her chair, Amelia eyed Vernetta with a very knowing glint in her green eye. Her now bright lips were made up in a smirk.

"Is there a reason why we're going exactly?"

"Those suits are new." She waved it off. "I want to know if they're durable."

Amelia slowly nodded.

"Not for that guy?"

Vernetta paused for a moment. Even if it were instant, she still stole time to think. Amelia knew the truth even if Vernetta refused it.

"I suppose. Wish him a nice graduation and all."

 _And more_ , Amelia thought.

* * *

Both girls went out early to a local diner. It was surprisingly cool between the leather and tile mixing with heat and the grill. Vernetta had enough of Amelia pestering her, so she turned the table.

"So tell me about this Bucky." She took a sip of her soda.

Amelia's expression instantly changed to a more lighter image. The mere mention of the name seemed to have her under a spell.

"He seems... _nice."_

"Nice? _Nice?!_ Amelia…"

"What? That's all I had to say!"

Vernetta scoffed, sinking into the hard booth. "So he was just nice? During the entire appointment?"

The waitress had slid hot plates under their noses, the salty aroma filling their nostrils. Both said their thank yous and eased themselves in.

"He was flirtatious." Amelia bit into a fry. "But not as much as you, that's for damn sure."

* * *

The girl arrived to George Washington High at one with an hour to spare. Signs, banners, streamers, this school was all about their seniors and celebrating the next big step. Vernetta kept her head held eye with sunglasses protecting eyes from the sun. She walked with a strut and spine straight, confident. It's just kids and their families, not some gala forced upon her by her own family. Amelia seemed to fit in more and her friend was just fine with that.

"Hello ladies!" The school secretary greeted them warmly.

"Hello ma'am."

The secretary was perhaps a middle-aged woman, married and had reared a child that has already graduated. She, too, was dressed for the occasion with dulling red hair done up like one of the people in the talking films. Her eyeglasses were an even brighter shade of the same color. It was not the only bright thing adorning her body. Her dress was a shiny deep blue with black pointed shoes.

"And who might you girls be?" The secretary inquired.

"Oh, we're friends with a couple of students." Amelia replied.

"Oh how Iovely! Who?"

"Bucky Barnes."

"Steve Rogers."

Vernetta swore she saw her eyes pop when she said Steve's name. Apparently women don't associate themselves with him, especially women like her. She merely smiled.

"I actually sold him his suit and was curious to see how he would look in it. Naturally, I came to see and also offer support."

Vernetta smirked.

"Well, we should be heading in. Where will the ceremony take place?"

"The football field. Take a left and head towards the gym before going outside. You should see the back of the stands."

Along with her directions, the secretary also offered the pair a program. Graduating Class of 1936, it read. They thanked her before traversing the empty halls.

"What exactly are you hoping from this?" Amelia questioned.

Her friend was acting like an oddity but she remained composed. Out of the corner of her eye, Vernetta looked at Amelia.

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing."

* * *

The area looked magnificent for a Brooklyn school. The decor only added to its splendor. Dotted by flowers and patriotic bunting, the stage was raised so that everyone attending could witness the moment. The podium and lectern was strategically placed several steps away from the front of the stage. A substantial amount of chairs had been set in the field as many students and families mingled.

"You know," Amelia flipped through the program, "there's only twenty kids. This should only last an hour."

"Amelia, you always worry about time and how it's spent."

"I'm just saying it'll go by quick."

"And do what afterwards? Sew the rest of the day away?"

Both of them quickly silenced themselves, however, when a man approached them. He was a rather large man wearing a black and grey pinstriped suit that definitely did not flatter him. Balding hair retaining dark color, thick mustache and intense eyes, Vernetta guessed that he was an Italian. Strange considering the neighborhood yet now she finally realized what Steve said about looking like a gangster. He smiled and both girls were met with a wolfgrin.

"I don't believe we've met." He extended a hand. "And I know all students past and present."

"We're both from out of the borough. Just recently moved to work." Amelia innocently answered.

"A good cause. I'm Principal John Skinner."

Amelia introduced herself first, shaking his hand before Vernetta.

"Now, you two can't be from the same borough. You look like opposites."

"Oh, well…" Amelia hesitated.

"I'm from Manhattan." Vernetta bluntly stated.

This seemed to interest the man. He rubbed his chin.

"Ah yes. Only high up women could wear such an outfit."

Noticing status or an insult, Vernetta didn't care. She rolled her eyes behind the sunglasses but remained smiling.

"You must be proud of this class."

"Boy, am I. A handful of them are movers and shakers."

"Even those you don't seem to notice?"

Skinner studied Vernetta, still smiling although spite twisted the intention. Amelia immediately scoffed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"There's twenty kids, Miss. It's not hard to keep track of them."

"I certainly hope so. But I'm afraid we must be off to mingle."

Amelia and Vernetta pulled themselves together wishing the principal goodbye. They locked two arms together before diving into the horse. Vernetta's charm and confidence seemed to rub off on her friend. Even more so when Vernetta saw her chin high and walk change. Looking ahead, she saw the cause.

"Amelia! Vernetta! You both made it!" Bucky nearly bolted from his parents to meet the pair.

He wore Amelia's pick with hair styled. The graduation gown was folded over an arm whereas his mother held onto the cap. He sure was handsome, but Vernetta wasn't interested.

"Bucky! Oh, you look so handsome!" Amelia exclaimed, leaving Vernetta to embrace the young man before them.

"Not as lovely as you two." He chuckled. "You know, for some reason, I thought you two would be matching."

"Yes, well, she's too rich to dress normally."

Vernetta snorted. Suddenly Amelia had the confidence to jab at her whenever this Bucky was around. She couldn't help but chuckle along.

"I take pride in my fashionable status."

"You still look beautiful. Oh, by the way, Steve and his mother should be here soon." His smile never faltered, nodding along to his words.

"Thank you." Vernetta ignored the wink that followed.

In the meantime, she met Bucky's rather large family: parents, five siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, he even had two living grandparents. They were all an exciting bunch to be around and Vernetta could admit that. A younger sister, Hazel, was an exceptionally bright young lady. She had asked how to act cultured, even though Vernetta preferred the term refined. Still, she offered advice.

"Stand straight, speak softly, use more refined vocabulary."

"What? That's it? No balancing books on your head like a princess?"

"Why on earth would a princess balance a book on her head?"

"Well...because…"

Hazel pondered, her face scrunching up with thought.

"Well...I don't know but they apparently do that!"

"I'm not stopping you. Just do those things and dress nicely. They're stepping stones."

Time went on as the horde multiplied in number. Glancing around, their own bundle of people searched all over for familiar faces. Yet the Rogers' could not be found, neither mother nor son.

"I hope they're not running late." Mrs. Barnes worried.

Vernetta heard Mr. Barnes quickly comforting his wife, stating "You know Sarah." and that they'll be here. Vernetta sure hopes so. She'll be damned if she didn't witness the look on the young man's face when he saw her among spectators.

Vernetta and Amelia sat with the Barnes' with Hazel at the former's hip. Bright and curious, yes, but constant with her talking.

"Why did Bucky tell you about Steve?" The girl's face twisted.

"Because we're friends."

"But Steve doesn't have any friends. Especially lady friends."

The _nerve_ of that girl. She hadn't been been exposed to a proper conversation with her clearly blunt and open intentions. Yet it was entirely truthful. She shouldn't be reprimanded for that. Instead, Vernetta glanced down to Hazel.

"Well he has one now."

* * *

Both mother and son had arrived just before the ceremony commenced. Sarah Rogers had slid past the rows of people and their bony knees, collapsing next to Mrs. Barnes.

"Most important day and they decided it'd be wonderful to hold up the streets!" Sarah gasped for breath.

Vernetta immediately scanned eyes over the crowds. She searched for the signs of tardiness: a late student disheveled, running, something of the sorts. Yet the tint of her sunglasses and countless heads rendered her efforts futile. Amelia watched her, pondering and formulating an idea. Her friend was so keen on being noticed. She hadn't a clue why she was so interested in a kid shorter than her, but that was Vernetta's problem. Amelia could only watch and judge and wonder how someone like Steve Rogers could captivate her best friend, with one rather strange appointment, no less.

"Oh?" Sarah's voice rose with interest. "You girls from the store are here?"

Amelia looked up to see the same peculiar look in the woman's eyes. She, too, knew this was odd. True to her nature, Vernetta remained composed and offered a genuine smile.

 _Have to win over his mother somehow_ , Amelia instantly thought.

"Mrs. Rogers, it is a community event celebrating every student's achievements. We became so well acquainted with your boy and hers that Amelia and I wanted to extend our congratulations."

"That's Manhattan for good job." Amelia leaned in.

This caused the adults to chuckle. Even Sarah showed a smile.

"With those suits, those boys are unstoppable." She nodded. "Thank you, by the way. I saw _the_ receipt."

Yes, yes, the price was dropped. Vernetta couldn't care less about that kindness. But there was more to it. His mother's look and tone. It wasn't disapproving. Actually, it was quite the opposite with a hint of tease. Well, if she wanted to play that game, Vernetta was more than happy to jump aboard.

"The split-second before I handed it to him, I saw how the white completely ruined the shade." Vernetta sighed. "I hope that's not the case on my lips."

"No, my dear, you are a rose. Thorns and all."

"And which part is the thorns?"

"Your tongue, but I quite enjoy the refreshing conversation."

"As am I to find a woman of the same sentiment."

Sarah and Vernetta smiled. Amelia couldn't help but roll her eyes. That mission was clearly a breeze. The group focused their attention onto the stage as Principal Skinner took the helm of the lectern. He cleared his throat before deep voice seeped out from the few speakers dotted over the field.

"Welcome friends and family, to the ceremony celebrating the graduating class of Nineteen-thirty-six…"

With his words, the school band began bellowing the field with brass and percussion and so on. The beautiful graduation theme everyone knew even if they've heard only a hum of it. Everyone rose to their feet ready to applaud and cheer, exploding with noise as boys and girls clad in black walked through the wide aisle. The group was on the opposite side yet continued to poke head over others and steal a glance. Each student sat in the empty chairs that made up the first two rows, sitting and standing in uniform. There was the national anthem, a little welcoming speech, choir and band. Vernetta was bored by the time the sole Valedictorian and Salutatorian made their own speeches, which had began as the next hour came. Then there was Skinner.

He went on about the future and honor and all the topics that bored everyone. Most were accepting of it; every graduation was a drab occasion. It was the students and the cheering that made the most of it. Everyone anticipated their final walk yet Skinner dragged on and on. It was a good twenty minutes before he began to announce names.

"Norma Jane Abernathy, with Honors…

Nicholas Lee Adam...

Edward Paul Aldridge…

James Buchanan Barnes..."

The whole lot clapped and cheered as the men and younger ones screamed with excitement. Even Amelia joined in, though her voice was much lighter. Vernetta settled for clapping. He was handsome, yes, but he was of the same stock as all the rest. Plus, he's been flirting with Amelia and she was above "man stealing". She held her head high and looked on as the list continued. It wasn't until the 14th name that Vernetta perked up alongside Sarah Rogers. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mother rest on the very edge of the chair, fingers twined together ready to spring up on her heels.

"Steven Grant Rogers..."

Just as she expected, Sarah jumped and began clapping and hollering. The Barnes' slowly rose to join her, but Vernetta was the absolute second one.

He walked across the stage with suit resting comfortably on him. The gown covered most of it, but like a mother's intuition, Vernetta knew. She couldn't stop smirking. Steve met with Skinner and exchanged handshakes and one certificate. Steve looked out to the small cheering crowd and Vernetta swore they locked eyes. Not that he could see anyway.

They stood clapping and cheering until Steve was seated amongst his classmates in the second row. He knew he was being watched the entire time, so he waved back to the group. Vernetta returned with only a smile and a nod.

* * *

"My...what a crowd!" The speaker exclaimed. All the students have received their diplomas. Really, their stand-ins, but all was concluded for the most part. Now it was time for yet another boring segment. There was no point; graduation was technically done! Yet they all remained sitting. A woman occupied the lectern. She was a bit thinner and younger than the secretary but still just as bright and perhaps a bit more.

"It's just so wonderful to see so many faces of all kinds here today! I, Mrs. Lila Stocker, have been selected by our graduating students to send them off with the best speech since Lincoln."

The field went silent. Several coughs and sniffles filled the empty air. Stocker herself cleared her throat, taking a deep breath and dropping her shoulders.

"in order to succeed," she began, "We must first believe we can."

Corny. Cheesy. Vernetta thought of many synonyms. Yet she remained ever-listening. This speech had potential.

"You once believed you couldn't get through high school: classes too hard, teachers too demanding, peers too hard on eachother, final exams plummeting your GPA. Well, yes, that may happen, but you're here now with that cap and tassel. Think about that."

"Every single senior at George Washington High sits here today, ladies and gentlemen! Rude jocks, Judgemental cheerleaders, they sit here. Quiet lonely boys and delinquent girls, they sit here too. They once believed they couldn't, yet now they have their diplomas in hand. Think about that."

Quite the teacher, insulting an overgeneralized group in front of everyone. Vernetta couldn't stop her smile from erupting upon her face.

Stocker went on about how college will be the same, how careers and marriage and parenthood will share the same feeling. Wise words.

"Wish we would've heard that, huh?" Amelia whispered.

"You have no idea."

Truth be told, Vernetta never actually sat through a graduation ceremony. She left St. Bernadette's before she was a true graduate. This has been an event, so far.

"What you do today can improve all your tomorrows. Even the littlest things can create the biggest moments that will become treasures. God-willing, _when_ you all make it to the nineteen-nineties or beyond, you will cherish this moment even as you think it'd be best to leave the past in the past."

Stocker ended her speech that resembled a poetic postcard. "You are educated. Your certification is in your degree. You may think of it as the ticket to the good life. Let me ask you to think of an alternative. Think of it as your ticket to change the world."

Then she presented the world to the graduating class and caps instantly went into the air with screams of joy.

* * *

"I honestly have no idea why I'm getting all this attention." Vernetta flipped her head.

She clearly feigned innocence yet Amelia could tell that it wasn't entirely false. A wealthy-looking woman in a Brooklyn high school. _Public_ , no less!

"If that's the case, why don't you dress like your friend? Or even like me?" Sarah shook her head.

"Well first, I'm not a mother."

"And second, Vernetta just absolutely loves being the most stylish woman in the borough."

She could definitely count on Amelia's input, that's for sure. She shot her a strained look and a tight-lipped smile.

"Emi, if you keep saying such things, Mrs. Rogers might get the idea that I'm a vain narcissist."

"Everyone is a tad, my dear." She laughed. "Some more so than others."

The three were engulfed in a frenzy. After the caps began their descent, many friends and family shot from their seats to begin their crazed search. The women, however, chose to remain still and wait for the tide to recede. It was several moments before Steve and Bucky emerged from the horde grabbing onto each other for safekeeping. Vernetta paused in those moments, sliding off her sunglasses. Her smile was sincere while also beaming like the sun.

"Now tell me if I'm wrong, but I didn't hear an Honors following both your names." She teased.

"Psh, it's overrated. Bunch of dweebs." Bucky shrugged it off, but Steve took time to think.

"I'd probably would've got one of they had one for art."

"Both of you have reached a major milestone, Honors or not. I'm proud of you."

Sarah naturally embraced her son first before moving on to the son-like figure beside him. Amelia and Vernetta stood on the side watching their every move. It was a bit baffling that Vernetta was the very next person the short graduate turned to. Her eyes showed it, Bucky's showed it as did Amelia's. Everyone was, including Steve.

"Y'know, the suit's pretty nice." He awkwardly confessed. "Gotta lot of compliments."

"I know how to show off people and their assets, even if they don't believe they have any."

"She knows what she's talking about." Amelia jabbed her with a thumb. "She does it herself everyday."

The sun, after achieving its own momentous pinnacle, began to descend. It transformed from action to trend and those still mingling left their field in their respective clusters. The Barnes-Rogers-and-Friends cluster slowly disappeared by the stands. Vernetta, nearly hellbent in the eyes of her friend, remained at Steve's side.

"You doing anything exciting afterwards?"

He looked up, thinking about her looks rather than her words. He didn't notice the greenness of her eyes before, nor the sharp edges that made her face. Only her lips were familiar; bright and red just like before.

"Err...no. I'm just heading home now."

Her lips curved down almost in a pout. Her eyes sharpened.

"Oh, what a shame…"

The cluster soon became three separate parties once they reached the front of the school. Vernetta could hear Bucky attempting to coax Steve into pulling up his trousers and ask her out or something of the sort. Desperate for his attention, Amelia might say, but Vernetta was required to turn the tables for her own sake. She whirled around on her heels continuing her walk backwards and addressed the graduates.

"Go home and relax. It's been too hot and exciting of a day." She then faced forward and walked off campus. Amelia was just simply so confused yet her friend reassured her. She had a plan, afterall.

* * *

 **A/N: Well, it kind of wraps it up? I don't know, I needed to end this long chapter somehow. If I think of something, I'll end it better. Anyway, thanks for reading and stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3: A Lead Beauty

**A/N: Honestly, the more I try to invest in this fanfic, the more hectic my life gets! I mean as long as I write and post, it's all good, yeah? Anyway, here's chapter three. It's more of a filler chapter that focuses more on the characters instead of the plot. I actually had to look up Steve and Bucky's bio between high school and WW2 because the movie never explained it! I feel like it'd be nice to get to know those characters more aside from their film portrayals. I hope you all enjoy it!**

 **Also, shoutout to all my new favs and follows and** _ **Xenocanaan**_ **and** _ **AnastasiaLolita**_ **again for the reviews! :) Girl, you are killing it and all of you are amazing!**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter Three: A Lead Beauty

 _Femme Fatale_ literally translates to fatal woman, a mysterious and seductive dame whose charms ensnare her lovers, often leading them into dangerous situations. She is an archetype found in all art forms from the recent success of the noir moving pictures to the Arthurian legends. A femme fatale tries to achieve her hidden purpose by using feminine wiles such as beauty, charm, and sexual allure. Any woman in Steve's eyes was a beautiful creature with such gifts. His past experiences, however, force him to label most as fatal women. To be used, to be toyed with, to be reduced to the receiving end of a cruel joke had hardened the young man before he could ever experience feelings of _amour_. Vernetta Holbrook was perhaps the poster woman of all femme fatales with her dangerous composure and cool, calm demeanor. Yet, Steve held off. Something within held on to the last shred of hope he had that Vernetta was the dame for him. His frail frame was scooted into the desk adjacent to his bed. Thoughts ran like crazed children, screaming and laughing without sign of slowing down. He had tried to make them think of things such as his portfolio for his submission to Auburndale, or how it was time for him to start working and help his mother, or even trying to make time for Bucky who also suffers from the dreaded portfolio. With all his might, he only strained himself in vain. His sight, his hearing, his voice and everything about Steve Rogers focused on only one woman. He had been sketching aimlessly during this internal struggle. Looking down, the lead eyes that seemed to belong to Vernetta Holbrook stared back. Despite his past, he was falling. And _hard_.

* * *

It had been a month since graduation. Vernetta had sunk back into her routine of tending cloth and hanger, selling and sewing. She was new to Brooklyn, afraid to explore the life that awaited outside by herself. Amelia had absolutely refused to aid in her journey. She preferred being led around the borough by none other than Bucky Barnes than traversing the streets with her cherry-lipped friend. Vernetta must admit he had talked to her more than they liked to let on when he wasn't with Amelia, but they were strictly platonic. Bucky had his romantic eye on Amelia and the brotherly love beating in his heart for her. He was still hopeful that his friend would find what he needed in some upper class Manhattanite. Vernetta, however, felt completely different.

"It's been a _month_ , Bucky. Okay?"

"C'mon, you know the two of us are busy with submissions."

"Yet you somehow have the time get out and socialize."

Vernetta pushed herself off the counter and faced the shelves trying to divert attention. Bucky wasn't having it. It was a constant 'huff-and-puff' with Vernetta. He slid behind the counter.

"You know Steve…-"

"-no I _don't_." Her voice was stern. "I've met him twice."

Bucky merely nodded in the way he knew would drive her crazy. He listened, he accepted, never interrupting yet always fired back with an argument. Who knew Steve had such an adamant friend?

He was surprisingly silent for the moment. He still remained glued to her side but not a peep escaped. Vernetta thought during this strange moment of peace. Bucky was so adamant that he fails to realize she's moved on. She had a plan if Steve pursued, yet she now stood annoyed that his friend continued to meddle in a now nonexistent relationship. _Acquaintance_ was a better term, however. Vernetta turned her head.

"Tell me about you and Amelia. She is choosing you over me, afterall."

"Oh…"

Out of the corner of her eye, Vernetta saw Bucky lean on the glass counter housing some of the jewelry. He dipped his head, hand disappearing behind neck. His tone wasn't all that great either. Just his body language revealed all she needed to know. Vernetta rolled her eyes.

"No good for you?"

"She's a doll and all, but…"

Bucky never finished. He only cringed and glanced over his shoulder multiple times.

"I know. I work and live with her." Vernetta sighed. "You needn't say a thing."

She just oh-so loved pointing out flaws and insulting them. It was often thought of as a trait reserved for the closest of friends where such abuse was in reality a sign of affection. Bucky didn't seem to think so by the looks of it.

"She's as cute as a bug's ear but that ain't everything, y'know?"

Vernetta stayed behind the counter, rearranging and straightening everything that was on a shelf. The lower ones held perfumes and fragrances. The higher shelves were reserved for the most expensive accessories. Jewelry, hats, gloves and others all lounged high and observed all. Vernetta had to step on a ladder to reach the top while Bucky held it in place.

"Then tell me about you."

"What?"

"You heard me. I do recall a sister who wanted to be rich. Helen, was it?"

"Hazel. And yeah, she has these visions of grandeur. Meeting you only made it worse."

"Oh, don't be an egg!"

* * *

Steve was drenched in sweat the moment he stepped out his door. It was a feverish wall that bubbled down to his thin bones. He still chose to wear his usual trousers and button-up shirt, save a few unbuttoned holes and the rolled up sleeves. Sketchbook in hand, he traveled down the melting pavement.

Children were rampant in his neighborhood; a virtue and vice of the Irish Catholic. They ran the streets like stray dogs often almost getting hit by a car or throwing a ball at one. Either way, Steve was met with the blaring honk of a car horn for most of the way. Their families would yell at both child and car in an almost Italian fashion. Everyone was outside; too hot to remain indoors. The air was too warm to help and almost if not everyone didn't have a air conditioner. Many were too bulky and they had to make room for their families. Then there was the price.

Steve strolled to the edge of his block where the more fortunate Irish-Americans live. The buildings became nicer, the streets less chaotic. Mr. Barnes planted his family roots here nearly twenty years ago after he married Mrs. Barnes. He worked a menial job yet it surprisingly had good pay. Bucky came along, then the surprise of Dorothy and Doris, then Hazel, and then little Thomas. They were well off and welcomed him like a sixth child after the second grade.

Steve tapped on the door and took a step back. The door came flying and before he knew it, Doris was at the door.

"Oh, hi Steve!" Doris exclaimed.

"Hi Doris."

"You know, you've missed Bucky!"

Wherever could he be? Despite his popularity, Bucky wouldn't leave without letting Steve know. Doris knew that, and read his questioning look like a book.

"You here to work on your portfolios?" She glanced down to the sketchbook.

"Oh, uh, yeah. But I'll just head home I guess."

"Your mother's at the hospital working. You're seriously going to stay home alone?"

The disapproving yet playful look only a Barnes could possess met Steve. Hip jutted out, lips curved into a smirk and arms crossed, Doris stared Steve down until he caved in his own awkward way.

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" He waved his hands around. "I don't have anyone else except you guys. I'm sure you don't want my help around your house."

Doris cracked a smile. His little attempt of a domestic joke was kind of worth it. She peeked out the door and pointed a finger to further down the road.

"He's at 19 with your lady friend and the other one." She nodded. "By the way, you two…?"

"I don't know how to talk to women. It's been a month. She's probably lost interest."

"Then get your rump down there! Draw her for your portfolio. Girls _love_ the attention!"

* * *

"...so that was that. Steve got his ass kicked, like usual, but it was by Dorothy because he accidentally walked in on her changing."

Vernetta couldn't contain herself. She clung to the ladder trying not to fall off in order to jiggle with laughter. For some time now, Bucky had indulged her with stories he's heard or witnessed. It was a good day seeing his little sister lay down her law on Steve. Sure, they were of the exact same build and stature, but she clearly won that battle. Then again, Steve didn't believe in hurting dames.

"Oh-ho-ho-hew…" Vernetta wiped away the tears.

She climbed down still laughing like a fool. This in turn made the young man chuckle along.

"You could tell me stories all day, couldn't you?"

"Believe me, I have enough stories for _years_."

Amelia called out from one of the back rooms. Bucky's name was no doubt the first. He slowly began to take steps back, facing twisting into a forced smile.

"I've been summoned."

"You should look happy about it or Amelia will get on you."

Vernetta was all alone in the front, like it mattered. Summer had truly arrived making the heatwaves more unbearable. Most became slothful, not wanting to move from their blocks or even their homes. If Vernetta wasn't working, she'd damn well stay home. Her and Amelia invested in an air conditioner, after all!

Not even a minute in pulling out and polishing the display jewelry, the little bell screwed in above the door jingled. Vernetta froze her hand over a jeweled necklace and instead glanced up to see whoever was visiting the store. They were short and thin but her eyes didn't pop until this visitor took a few steps closer.

"Steve?" She straightened her back.

He avoided the eyes yet the closer he got, the more Vernetta noticed the red tint in his cheeks.

"You remember me." He tried to hide a chuckle.

Poor man, always expecting to be the stranger. Vernetta switched her mindset completely, altering her voice to be soft and her body welcoming.

"Of course I would. Why wouldn't I?"

"It's been a month since we last spoke. Not exactly the greatest farewell…"

Vernetta moved on when she hadn't seen Steve. He now stood before her seemingly remorseful and awkward. Then she remembered why she was so interested. He was different from all the other men she's encountered in her life. Steve was truly a unique person: his size was dwarfed by his towering character.

"We were all hot and tired." A small smile formed. "What's that in your hand?"

Steve pulled his left hand up, remembering the purpose of this strange book.

"It's my portfolio I'm working on for Auburndale."

" _Auburndale_? My my, you're an ambitious one."

"You know about it?"

"Of course. I _am_ cultured and educated."

There she goes, reverting to her haughty and snobbish side. She had be careful enough to subdue parts of herself she knew wouldn't work in Brooklyn. Steve somehow broke down the wall Vernetta had tried to build, and that wasn't necessarily bad.

"That and I've had quite a few family members enroll. Especially when it was the last decade."

"How so?" Steve stepped closer.

Vernetta could tell he wanted to keep the conversation alive, to hear her speak perhaps. She appreciated the attention and indulged him.

"Well it was popular to be an artist in the Twenties. Literature exploded, architecture literally skyrocketed, and the visual arts birthed Art Deco. It was _the_ time."

"I take it you're passionate of that time?" Steve laughed.

"Of course. If I were a young woman back then rather than a child, I would've _lived_. All the wealth and debauchery one could ask for. I could have been a Daisy Buchanan-no! A Jordan Baker!"

Steve now fully faced her, making Vernetta smile even more. He was fully engaged with her, somehow slowly making his way to the counter.

"I don't know about everything else, but I would've enjoyed the art. Could've been a big name."

"Well what's your style?"

"Drawing, mostly."

Vernetta pondered, pulling out the relevant piece of knowledge out of an endless library.

"You could've been a household name." She nodded. "I don't know of anyone who became famous with drawings. Fashion designers, yes, but their drawings become reality."

"Most don't make a career out of drawing, so who knows." Steve shrugged.

Only the arid breeze and the glass counter separated the man and woman. Bucky could make her laugh, yes, but her playful smirks were reserved for Steve. It mostly resembled a small smile belonging to a person who knows a cute secret. It spoke more than her laugh. Even he flashed a smile, looking away at times due to his bashful nature. But he always looked back and that was the biggest surprise in Vernetta's day. She was thankful her excessive habit of lipstick decided to stick through the heat. Her plain lips would have been a sore to her own eyes!

"We got so caught up, I didn't ask why you came. Forgive my rudeness."

"There's nothing to forgive. You could do no wrong."

Vernetta felt her own cheeks burn.

"I assume you're here for Bucky?"

"Yes ma'am."

"He's in the back with Amelia, but between you and me," Looking towards the back, she flattened her chest on the glass and beckoned Steve to move closer, "he doesn't want to be anymore."

The whites in Steve's eye popped. Bucky? Tired of a broad? Usually it was the broad who ended things when they found out Steve's charming friend wasn't only flirting with just them. This was an interesting development.

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious."

The pair of them gossiped like women until Bucky emerged with Amelia trailing behind. His face was harder than usual whereas Amelia was still her cheery self. That all changed when they saw Vernetta and Steve.

"Steve! Out of the house, huh?" Bucky slapped Steve's back.

The man winced but ultimately laughed it off. Vernetta rose from the counter, brow arched and a more sinister smirk in the place of the previous.

"You two were back there for an awfully long time." She snickered. "Steve and I chatted for a good ten minutes or so."

"Was she boring you with her Tiffany diamonds or the lovely Cartier bracelet?" Bucky nudged.

"I'm surprised you even know what those are." Amelia piped in.

"Eh, what can I say? I have sisters."

* * *

Vernetta told Amelia she'd stay behind and close up if business remained dead. Bucky very well couldn't tell her she couldn't come with him. The cringe on his face was both humorous yet saddening. Vernetta desperately hoped that her friend recognized the signs Bucky was putting out. In the meantime, Steve surprised her by staying in. It seemed to be odd yet the explanation he offered was a bit sweet.

"You don't mind if I stay and draw?" He sheepishly asked.

"Only if you take in a suggestion."

Steve was all ears. He watched as Vernetta scaled a ladder, descending with only one hand. She turned around and he glanced at the bright and dazzling jewels strung together.

"You're aware you have to do observational art, yes?" Steve nodded.

"I'll tell you this. If you have the skill to beautifully render diamonds, they'll accept you without hesitation."

Vernetta set the neck bust onto the sole ring station, moving aside sizing rings and various tools of repair. Steve was hesitant of sitting and wanting to take on such a daunting task.

"There's so much light and dimension, Steve."

"You don't even know my skill."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You have to take risks for what you love, yeah?"

Vernetta sat across from Steve where she would usually sit if there were customers. The bust, facing towards him, was a gorgeous yet deadly piece of art that will break his mind. He was quick to study each jewel, but the task before him caused great disfocus.

"I can pull out a less extravagant piece?" Vernetta shrugged.

Steve shook his head, smiling a bit crooked for a guy like him. He straightened his small shoulders rolling up his sleeves further.

"You know your art. I trust you."

There it goes, the burning sensation on her cheeks. Vernetta pursed her lips in a way people knew she was comfortable. The spontaneous head tilt made it even more noticeable.

"I'll get us dinner later."

* * *

She certainly went all out for something as simple as dinner. Somehow, and more importantly somewhere, Vernetta had bagged a couple cheeseburgers and a couple cups- yes, _cups_ -of fries happily parting with 10 cents for two glasses of coke. The surprise on Steve's face when he looked up was quite noteworthy.

"What's in the bag?" His eyes widened.

"Oh, you know, food."

Vernetta set one coke down before digging into the crumpled bag. She was constantly hovering over Steve that after she handed him his food, she noticed the sketch.

"Finished already?" She smiled down. "It looks beautiful."

"It just needs some more rendering…" Steve stammered.

His hand instantly found the safe spot at the nape of his neck, rubbing back and forth while he leaned against the station. Vernetta studied his movements. Were they born of his natural awkwardness? It couldn't be, he was doing so well before. Vernetta promised to keep an eye on him.

"Take your time, then. I don't mind staying up."

* * *

Steve had finished well before Vernetta returned to 19. The bright light beaming down in a store full of darkness washed out the rendering, but it was there and definitely a beauty. He had finished. He had the skill. Yet, something in Steve anchored him to hit seat.

He glanced up in the midst of a new sketch unbeknownst to Vernetta. She was sorting the finances of the shop, something Steve hadn't witnessed until now. He could only guess that the woman dreaded the numbers. Eyes bounced up and down as his pencil furiously rubbed against the paper. This muse of his was far more beautiful than some oversized diamonds. Vernetta Holbrook was perhaps the queen of all femme fatales with her charm and deceiving normality. She played herself as a Manhattan girl wanting the simple Brooklyn life. She fawned over some undersized, skinny man who looked more like a boy. She bought him burger and fries and a nice cool coke. Yet Steve knew of that haughty, snobby, vain upper class girl who thought she was better than everyone else. This was strangely the basis of an ever-expanding attraction and he oh-so craved more.

Glancing up was his femme fatale hunched over ledgers and receipts. Her always perfect hair was tousled and a few strands streamed from her scalp. Slowly, she would munch on a couple fries careful not to jab her red lips. Steve was careful to capture what the light highlighted, his sight and touch in the command of solely Vernetta. He had been sketching aimlessly like earlier in the day, yet this time he welcomed it. Looking down, the lead lines and shading that formed into a body and a head of hair. Again, he was falling. And _hard_. Doris was right. Vernetta may not know it, but Steve knew she was going to love the piece that did her beauty justice. Perhaps Steve could muster the courage to ask her out, maybe even _going steady_ when the time was right. For now, he hid his smile and continued sketching until he finished, careful to hide it from Vernetta as she locked up the place for the night.


	4. Chapter 4: Birthday Pt1

**A/N: Hello my lovelies! Chapter 4 is here and in two parts to make this story extra-spicy :) I think this will be the tipping point in the book because, if you are unaware, I'm planning three. That's right!** _ **Three**_ **stories! This current book will perhaps be the shortest for background/origin purposes. We're only on Book One, though, so I'm just going with the flow on this one. As always, enjoy, follow, favorite, review, whatever makes you happy! :)**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter Four: Birthday, Part One

"Must be nice having your hands in that all day."

"Sure is, but then I have to worry about it melting."

Vernetta and the ice cream man exchanged light smiles. She had been strolling down the street when she noticed the ever growing line to a small, portable stand. When she joined into the flowing line, she noticed there was a glass protector guarding the ice cream and that the stand was a beautiful blue and white. When it was her turn to order, it was a nice older man at the helm with a white beard perfect for ice cream.

"What'll it be miss?"

"I don't suppose you have chocolate, do you?"

"Well I got ten flavors and chocolate's the second best."

The ice cream man grabbed a cone and dished up two standard scoops. Vernetta thanked the man whilst exchanging coin for cone. She would have been on her way down to the apartment if two brunettes, a living mirror image of each other, hadn't blocked her with arms locked together.

It startled Vernetta even more when they licked their own cones in unison.

"Erm...hello?"

"You're Steve's girl, right?"

"I'm...no one's girl?"

Such an odd pair. Vernetta motioned them to follow and all three found shade against one of the nearby brick buildings.

"Who are you two?"

"You're the girl?"

Vernetta rolled her eyes. She didn't particularly fancy a pair of odd twins asking quite personal questions on a bright and hot day.

"It's an attraction at most. Steve's too-"

"-awkward...?"

"Doubtful...?"

"Insecure...?"

"Ner-"

"-look, I get it, okay?"

These twins were quite the critical pair.

"Now answer my question."

Before any response, they exchanged several looks; that weird mental connection twins have or something. But they faced Vernetta with small smiles.

"I'm Doris..." The one on the left spoke first.

"And I'm Dorothy..."

"You were at graduation..."

"Although you were more interested in our sister Hazel..."

Now it made sense. Vernetta nodded, licking her ice cream while studying the twins. They were Barnes'. It was oh-so clear: handsome features, mischievous expressions, kind green eyes, a bold personality to approach a woman in such ways. She pointed to Dorothy first.

"You're the one who beat up Steve?" That earned her a smile.

"Well, what's a girl suppose to do when a boy walks in her room?"

"And you," Vernetta focused on Doris, "you did something. You can't be the miracle good twin."

"I told Steve to draw you that day he was looking for Bucky. Said girls love that."

Doris got her response with the woman's twisted face. Her eyes squinted as her nose crinkled.

"He drew some diamonds, but…"

That would explain a lot.

"Maybe so…"

"...But you're the diamonds he _wants_."

Smooth-talkers just like their brother. How lovely.

"So you're just going to stand here and ask me ridiculous questions?"

"You know, I expected a bit more snark." Doris turned to Dorothy.

"Yes. She hasn't been as snobby as Bucky described."

 _Snark? Snobby?_ Vernetta's jaw tightened as her brow arched. She's noticed she had to that quite often the past couple of months with anyone with the surname Ryan, Rogers, and Barnes. Lately she's had to add her own surname to that list and these girls weren't doing anything to help shorten it.

"I don't care what Bucky says. You can't trust the word of a womanizer."

" _Womanizer_? Why, Dorothy! Our brother's scorned a woman without ever wooing her!"

"My! We should buy him a medal!"

"Yes, well, you wouldn't be mocking me if you found out he cheated on your best friend."

Oh yes. Underneath all the charm and beauty was a man who decided to betray her friend rather than break things off like she suggested. Vernetta had entered a local bar to find Bucky and a woman. Obviously, she assumed it was her friend but several more glances proved otherwise. Her skin was tanner than what a woman stuck in a store all day should look like. Her hair, the dirty blonde Vernetta herself has styled in the past, was a dark brunette far curlier than it should be. She stood at the end of the bar watching this Amelia imposter touch Bucky's arm and he her thigh. The seductive smile on his face was wiped clean when he looked up and saw his girlfriend's best friend staring back. They hadn't even been together for a month.

Both Dorothy and Doris tamed their expressions upon that awful revelation, sinking into their small bodies and awkwardly waiting for Vernetta's words to air out. But like the humid air, it was uncomfortable.

"Well, that definitely changes the perspective." Dorothy broke the silence. Her twin added onto her words.

"He meant that in a nice way. You know, he does speak highly of you. More so than usual…"

"I really don't care what he says. If I wasn't such the lady I am, I'd tell him to go fu-"

" _Vernetta_?"

The woman responded to her name, turning to find a much welcomed person enter the conversation. Steve was a smiling fool with an ice cream in hand. It was an infectious feeling and Vernetta couldn't help but smile.

"Steve? I haven't seen you in ages!"

"I guess that's a thing between us, huh?"

Steve's laughter and innocent happiness made Vernetta forget the anger over Bucky's rather loose morals. She was so completely focused on him that she failed to see a bony finger pointed at her hand.

"Your, uh, ice cream is melting."

She was dazed for a moment, smiling and starstruck. When the words finally reached her brain Vernetta snapped to her hand to find chocolate running down on all sides. A low guttural groan escaped something far too beautiful to make that noise.

"Great."

"Here." Steve offered his napkin and a sympathetic smile.

"You know we're here too, yeah?"

The young man's body language became rigid. Apparently he hadn't noticed Doris and his mortal enemy Dorothy. He honestly couldn't look her in the eye after the incident, so he went on choosing to look at the tip of his shoes.

"Oh! You two."

"Yes, us two. Feeling a bit sheepish?"

"Alright, both of you need to run along." Vernetta waved them off with a soggy napkin. " _Now._ "

Dorothy pouted. It seemed, to Vernetta anyway, she enjoyed teasing Steve and derived pleasure from it. Doris was the one to finally tug her twin and they waltzed off past the Brooklyn mobs.

"Thanks." He took a breath.

"You're welcome. Now tell me, you're a _fuddy-duddy_?"

"A _what_?"

"A fuddy-duddy! They had some exciting flavors and you chose vanilla!?"

"Says the girl who has chocolate! Sometimes the classics are the best."

"Chocolate is a classic! Vanilla is bland!"

"Chocolate is a culinary abomination!"

"How _dare_ you!" Vernetta feigned offence but couldn't contain her hysterics for long.

This may be perhaps the first time Steve openly joked with her. Now if that isn't a milestone she doesn't know what is. Her free hand found itself on her chest. An impulse she grew up with and one Steve noticed.

"You try to blend in, yet you dress rich and use your hands rich." The young man himself copied her movements. "No one in Brooklyn does this."

"Well _you_ shouldn't, that's for sure." Vernetta giggled. "I'm sure some of the much older women believe it so."

"The _traditional_ ones who preach corset over girdles and all that nonsense."

The laughing was non-stop. Vernetta wouldn't take Steve as someone who makes lingerie jokes; or even somewhat disrespecting elders. It feels as if she had finally tore down some wall he had been building since childhood.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Steve said.

"I don't."

"Where have you been?"

"Well."

She came back for a reason and wasn't going to let Steve, as much as she liked him, hinder her from her goal.

"Walk with me and I'll tell you." She motioned.

They slowly traversed the hot sidewalks and Vernetta was careful to remember she had a cone in need of devouring. Shame on her if she had forgotten a second time.

"It's Eddie's birthday today." She began. "Bobby basically begged me to spend at most a week with the two of them."

Steve pondered upon her words. They had known each other for over a couple of months and he certainly got an earful about the infamous Holbrook family. He could only counter with the times his mother would smother him in public when he was smaller.

"What about your parents?"

"Oh, I forced Bobby to make sure they weren't in New York. Luckily, they're in Hollywood so it wasn't difficult."

"And Albert?"

"In England with that horrid wife of his. As I'm told, anyway."

She looked at Steve. This family drama made him retreat into his inner self. He wasn't one for rivalries and dangerous gossip. He prefered the honest way of living.

"Eddie wanted to be normal. He can't exactly move into a new borough like me, so he asked for a good ol' Yankees game."

"Which is why you're back?"

"You make it sound like I moved." Vernetta snickered. "But yeah. Amelia said I can borrow something of hers. My wardrobe's too lavish for such an occasion."

Their heels clacked on the concrete, a beautiful and crisp sound. It only became thuds when they crossed the street, and their footsteps was the only sound between them. Steve and Vernetta were silent for some moments. She thought he'd make some remark or laugh a bit but he didn't. It wasn't a necessarily bad moment, though. Glancing down, their hands were only inches away. As bold and romantic as she was, Vernetta didn't know if it was time. She could only imagine startling Steve causing him to move further away.

"You should come. I'd like you to meet the family I'm proud to be with." Vernetta couldn't help but blurt out her words.

"I mean, your birthday is the next weekend and I know Eddie would love it if you were there."

"What? I don't even know the kid."

"But you're a regular guy. They like you as much as I do, Steve."

She saw him go red and couldn't help but smirk. She wasn't even trying; it was the hopeless romantic stealing her words.

"You told your family about me?"

"Naturally to the ones I like, yes."

* * *

They arrived to the apartment building and they zigzagged the staircase until Vernetta knew they were on the fifth floor. She pulled a set of keys from her purse unlocking the door and stepped in. "What? Are you a vampire?" Vernetta noticed Steve's stillness. "You can come in."

She went storming into Amelia's room whether or not Steve actually stepped in. Most of her wardrobe was day dresses so she had to find some way to narrow it down even more.

"How can I drown myself out?" She mumbled.

She pulled out the slim few and their hangers that could even come close to being worthy of Vernetta Holbrook. Tossing them onto the bed, she noticed Steve sulking in the doorway.

"Make yourself at home. I'll need help in choosing." Vernetta gestured to the bed.

He in all his awkward glory shuffled into the bedroom. He specifically chose to seat himself at the end of the bed, causing smiles to erupt on Vernetta's face.

"Just a fair warning, this will be a challenge."

"I don't understand why you just don't settle. It's only for a night."

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't settle."

The dangerous chuckle made the hairs on Steve's arms stand straight up. Her eyes suddenly became dark that glistened with a mischievous spark.

"You don't mind if I ask why I'm here then?"

Her hand froze once she grabbed a hanger. She thought for a moment and more, formulating the right words and order of words to get into Steve's head that she legitimately is attracted to him. She threw the dress next to Steve. In his surprise, she actually approached him and leaned over to look him straight in the eye.

"I _don't_ settle. Everything I want, have, and pursue is up to my standards."

Their blue eyes locked. She made sure Steve would not look away to avoid embarrassing himself. No, she kept his attention with her playful smirk. Vernetta tilted her head with a sigh and a pout.

"Except for this stupid dress. I'm settling on a dress. Like you said, it is for a night."

She straightened her back, grabbing the dress that could not possibly work from Amelia's closet.

"But I simply _cannot_ wear this. Do you take me for a woman who would wear white polkadots on navy?"

"If I know you well, you're in love with stripes."

"That you do."

She turned back to the closet.

"Yet Amelia hates them. I suppose a solid dress will do."

From the dresses she had chosen, Vernetta had held them up to her person and made Steve critique the look before him. Whether it was a cringe, a nervous groan, or a straight up "No", they went threw all the dresses.

"I must hand it to you Steve; you have an eye for fashion despite your distaste of it."

"That's Manhattan for 'You have good style', right?"

She rolled her eyes whereas he laughed. Yet, he stood on his feet and joined Vernetta at the shoulder.

"I am an aspiring artist, remember? Even if it isn't fashion."

Rummaging through the closet, Steve examined some potential choices before pulling out one grey piece.

"You should wear this."

Vernetta nodded. She didn't know a man who would help her find something to wear. The most help she's ever had was advice from her brothers. A man, completely opposite of her might she add, physically chose and handed her something to wear. She respected that more than she would like to admit.

* * *

"I do look ordinary, right?"

Steve didn't take Vernetta to be a woman who fretted about her looks. She does when she looks her best, which is every day, but that wasn't the fret he was thinking of.

"Like an ordinary and beautiful girl." He reassured her.

Somehow, she was a more dazzling thing than normal. Less was more to Steve and he certainly saw that in Vernetta. They sat on the warm steps leading to the apartment's entrance. The sun was finally behind the building, adding much needed shade.

"If you see a Rolls-Royce, let me know."

"A _what?_ " Steve's jaw fell.

"A Rolls-Royce?"

Vernetta was confused for a second. The world she was brought up in clouded her reality in the world without her wealth and grandeur. Her expression fell, ashamed that for some reason, it was normal to see that type of automobile riding the streets.

"Like myself, Bobby understands the concept of blending in but can't actually wrap it around his head." She laughed.

"Well, you're known as the most fashionable woman in Brooklyn. That's gotta be something, right?"

"Helps my store, yeah."

They continued to speak, delving into simple conversation and lived in the moment. That is until they heard their names being called. Steve was in front of the growing voice. Her turned his neck only to see Bucky smiling and waving.

"It's Bucky." He turned back to Vernetta.

His high mood was lifted even more but looking at the woman, the corners of her mouth dropped. It was concerning. Bucky had always been sweet on Vernetta and respected the limits set by all three of them. But now, she didn't look a bit happy.

"What's wrong, Vernetta?"

"He-"

"Steve! Vernetta! Fancy seeing you here."

Bucky was all smiles, standing at the bottom of the steps. He seemed a bit antsy and his eyes kept looking at the woman nervously.

"So uh Vernetta, you look a bit-uh-dressed down?" He stammered.

" _Obviously_." Venom clung to the one word.

Now Steve was just confused as ever. The unexplained hostility between them made him feel like he was in the middle of No Man's Land. At any moment, he could be shot with their words.

"I'm celebrating something special today, Steve." Vernetta turned towards him. "I'd rather not spoil it with the likes of _him_."

"Is it a birthday? I thought you'd be the one to pull out the ballgowns for that."

"Who gave you the right to speak?"

"Well then I beg for forgiveness, _Queen_ Vernetta."

"Okay, you two need to stop!" Steve jumped to his feet and held up open palms.

He found ground between them with Bucky at the bottom and Vernetta at the top. He felt as if he were an adult coming between two children. This wasn't the Bucky and Vernetta he knew.

"Okay." Steve hesitated. "Bucky, what _did_ you do?"

His handsome features molded itself into grave offense. He gestured to himself and Vernetta mumbling and gasping.

"What makes you think I did something, huh?! You're gonna let some broad come between us?"

"Never! It's just...I know she wouldn't do anything."

"You don't even know her, Steve!"

"I know you have a reputation, Buck."

Vernetta was staring daggers into Bucky at this point. Arms crossed, face painfully scrunched up, she was waiting to slap him.

"Oh? So it's chronic, huh?" Vernetta slowly descended. "You being the filthy liar you are?"

"Tell me what you did, Buck."

His fists and jaw were clenched. For the first time in history, Steve was against him. He prayed this would be the only time. He didn't blame Vernetta for her behavior but he couldn't forgive turning his best friend against him.

"You know I was tired of Amelia. Didn't know how to break it, so…"

"He 'moved on' without a care!" Vernetta thrashed a finger at him. "He broke her heart and he hurt her terribly!"

"Hey, you know what they say Vernetta. _Don't cry over spilt milk_."

She practically lunged at him, swatting and hitting, hoping she'd leave a mark.

"You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!"

"Vernetta!"

Steve rushed to push himself between the two. Bucky kept trying to grab her wrists but she was too fast, pummeling him with her nails and knuckles.

"I thought you were a good man!"

"Hey! You leave my sister alone!"

Bucky was tossed aside and a man of similar appearance replaced his spot. His hair was a bit lighter and eyes that matched Vernetta's but still awfully looked like the man she was beating.

"Hey, you ain't a part of this!" Bucky growled.

"The hell I'm not!"

"Your _sister_ is one crazy broad!"

In an instant, the man had pulled out a shiny silver pistol from behind and pointed it right at Bucky's chest. Bucky himself held his hands in the air. He nodded, slowly slinking away and accepting this defeat.

"Goddamnit." The man growled, retracting his pistol. "I was hoping I didn't have to pull this out tonight and the fun hadn't even started yet."

" _Bobby_ …"

"Vernetta," Steve softly touched her arm, "are you alright?"

She rubbed her forehead with one hand, eyes tightly closed.

"He didn't even care, Steve." She sighed. "That's the worse part about this."

"That the guy who cheated on Amelia?"

"Yes, Bobby…"

If one didn't have anything nice to say, they ought to not say anything at all. Bobby chose that path, but not before spitting on the concrete.

"What a dick."

Steve still had a hand on Vernetta. He wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon. Sure, he couldn't believe that she could fall to such levels. Then again, he didn't think the same of Bucky.

"We should go." Bobby addressed his sister. "Eddie's in the car."

His eyes trailed down to Steve.

"You must be Steve. Unfortunate that we had to meet under these circumstances."

A big talker, just like his sister. Steve could only muster a nod and few words

"Steve."

"Vernetta."

She refused to look at him. Something in her made her feel ashamed. Never before had she been under the mercy of such a cold, terrible emotion.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to. I doubt you'd want to be even near me…"

"Hey, you don't say that."

Steve cusped her soft hand, feeling her well-kept nails graze his skin.

"To be fair, both you and Bucky were being jerks." He chuckled. "It takes courage to confront someone. I like that about a person."

"Says you. You like to get into fights from what I'm told."

Relief rushed over both Steve and Bobby once they heard the tiny laughs hiccup from her throat.

"We get it." Bobby grew impatient. "Now let's go!"

* * *

 **A/N: Well that was fun! And it's only the first part! I felt this fanfic needed some drama so I hope I delivered! Again, thank you to everyone who's reading and following! This story and my inspiration wouldn't be here without you! :) Of course, I had to add some banter and my most favorite Hermione quote to bring the pizazz!**


	5. Chapter 5: Birthday Pt2

**A/N: Hello my lovely readers! Here's part 2 of Birthday, although this chapter barely focuses on that. Nevertheless, I do think you'll enjoy it especially since I made it extra spicy :) Shout out to everyone from readers, followers, favs, reviewers, everyone! You guys are seriously so great!**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter Five: Birthday, Part Two

Eddie Holbrook was about to have the best night of his life. The one big wish he had been praying for had finally entered his life and the Rolls-Royce. It wasn't too excessive, knowing that his Lord worked in mysterious ways, so he kept it realistic and capable of occupying one of his growing fingers if he never needed to keep track of it. First, there was the age where he was considered an adult. He was finally old enough to learn the trade that made his family as affluent and pouring with gold throughout the generations. Their father wasn't around as usual. Bobby was the second best thing to one, so he explained their history in all sorts of industries. They got their start with the railroads. As of '23, their family had been growing in wealth with the rise of the automobile industry.

Secondly, he wanted a day where he was like every other boy in New York. He was raised with accordance to the fashion calendar, what to wear at events down to the most miniscule detail, most have never even felt the texture of the finest linens keeping their skin cool and relaxed. Even Eddie's behavior was peculiar. He just wanted to blend in _once_ , even if it was the only time in his life he could ever do so.

For his third wish, he had mostly prayed for his family to be, well, a family. His parents were indifferent about the whole lot of children and preferred to travel and mingle amongst the world's finest. Albert, the eldest and most prized child, had caught himself a wife of British aristocracy named Myrtle Fairfax and lived and ruled her estate across the pond. Eddie couldn't even recall truly being with Albert since the wedding without holidays.

Vernetta was the second and the only girl, instantly becoming the token daughter and a Golden Girl. They had plans for her, even rumors of marrying her off to nobility higher up than Albert and Myrtle. They wanted to find a King Edward to her Wallis Simpson, minus the scandal and more of grace. That was the plan until she rebelled, dropped out of St. Bernadette's and made a home all the way in Brooklyn. Her fall from grace constantly tempted Eddie, but Bobby reigned him back to his roots when he grew to hasty.

Bobby was the favored child who had no plan in life. He did as commanded, performed the duty as a pleasant gentleman, he was everything a man should aspire to be. Yet true to his image of grandeur, he indulged in the greatest of debaucheries. He had made a sport out of pursuing married women, spent his money in excess and waste, he was the reckless Gatsby of Manhattan. Both Vernetta and Bobby's vices made Eddie love them even more, his most favorite family who had humanity. And now on this day, Vernetta had reunited with them and the trio was restored.

"Netta!" Eddie poked his head out of the window. "Oh Netta!"

She was all love and smiles on her baby brother, caressing his cheek and kissing him mercilessly. Yet she somehow had a glossy look in her eye, weary and weighted with sadness.

"And how does it feel to be a man, Mr. _Edward_?"

"Okay I guess. Bobby said I wasn't going to be a real man until my balls dr-"

"-You're taking advice from one of the most vulgar creatures we know?" She feigned surprise. "For shame!"

"That's _my_ brother!" Bobby laughed from the other side.

Eddie noticed a man somewhat close to his sister. He knew for sure that he was only a tad taller than himself and only a slightly bigger build. He was blonde and had good features only to be hidden by his thin face. In the week Vernetta had spent with him and Bobby, Eddie knew she was only dropping hints of a mysterious man who so captured her attention. Instantly, he knew who that man was.

"Hey!" He pointed. "You're Steve, right?"

"Yeah." He stepped closer.

"How swell! Netta's been talking about you all hush-hush and stuff. Are you her secret-boyfriend or something?"

Eddie had never seen a person turn as red as his sister's favorite lipstick. The woman herself was sent into a much needed fit of laughter.

"We're something alright." She wiped away the tears.

Before the siblings departed, Eddie watched as Steve and Vernetta stepped away for a moment and spoke in whispers. She looked almost sorry, moving closer to him and placing a hand on his chest. Steve touched her with both hands nodding his head and smiling. She was worried, he looked as if he needed to reassure her.

"Did something happen?"

"Netta almost got into a fight and Steve was in the middle of it."

Amazing. His _sister_ , oh-so prim and proper, almost got into a fight! If only he could move to Brooklyn and develop the gall!

The pair of them parted ways and Eddie scooched into the middle to make room. He couldn't help but hit her with his own reassurance when she opened the door.

"Y'know, you could've handed that girl her behind!" He exclaimed.

Vernetta and Bobby puckered their lips. She merely nodded and forced a smile.

"Yeah. _Right…_ "

"And you know Steve could've came, right?"

His sister put an arm around him and kissed his cheek.

"I know, but he has to go help his best friend. They're practically brothers, so you understand the whole family thing."

"Boy do I!"

* * *

"Remember that time you did a thing and something happened? That was pretty neat, right?"

"I've done a lot of things, Steve. Pick one."

Steve had traversed the streets of his home borough to find Bucky hunched over the bar at Willie's Tavern. It was almost sundown when he pushed open the heavy doors and found his best friend with a giant glass of beer. He said his hellos and took a seat, not knowing how to go about this rather awkward situation.

"Well that's why I can't think of any. You keep getting in trouble."

Steve hesitated in chuckling. His best friend was completely silent preferring to empty the glass and order another. He had other ideas than to have just one like Steve thought. The disapproval on his face was there and blatant but he never uttered a word. Bucky offered him a sideways glance.

"You don't have to keep me company."

"We're best friends. I'm not going anywhere. Just talk to me, Buck."

Bucky didn't give in to Steve's plea. He didn't like talking about things that made him upset. It only sent him back to the moment. He would have to be raging drunk to spill the beans of the most secret parts of Bucky Barnes and his partner in crime knew that. Usually he would attempt to make him refrain but he kept his distance. He waited patiently for him to talk, even if it would take all night.

* * *

"That wasn't as exciting as I thought it'd be."

"Losing is a big part of ordinary life."

"Well we aren't ordinary."

There was truth in Eddie's words. People like them don't lose. He was hoping his luck would rub off and the Yankees would win against the Cardinals and make his birthday the greatest one in the books. But his sister was onto something.

"It was still fun, though." He looked up to his siblings. "I'm glad we went."

"I'm glad you still enjoyed it. Now in you go."

Vernetta shut the door once Eddie was in the car. She leaned into the window.

"You boys will be alright?"

"Straight shot to Sands' Point; easy as it can be. What about you?" Bobby answered.

"Work my charm and get a cab."

"A cab?! _Bobby,_ I wanna go in a cab!"

Eddie begged and begged but Vernetta set him straight without Bobby even having to jump in. They were to return to the estate, wind down, and go to bed. That was that and her word was final.

"Happy birthday, Eddie. Both of you take care."

"Hey, I see that look in your eye!" Bobby yelled out. "I know what nights like this make!"

"What ever are you talking about?"

"You're going to go see your 'something'. I swear, if I found out I'm going to be an uncle…"

"Please," Vernetta rolled her eyes, "he won't even touch me."

"Bobby, what does that mean?" Eddie turned to his older brother.

"You'll find out later, trust me."

Vernetta's favorite boys drove off into the bustling New York cityscape back to that horrid family mansion. She thought that Bobby would take Eddie back to the Plaza Hotel to wind down and spend the night. That is, after all, where the majority of their childhood was spent. Then again, a hotel as grand as the Plaza and a time so late as it is now, the numerous floors were hunting grounds for debauchery and scandal. Bobby was a fan but his duty as brother fortunately overshadowed that desire. The token sister instead returned to a home filled with life and personality, not to mention some of the more rundown buildings. She instructed the cab driver to stop in front of a telephone booth near the apartment building.

"Thank you kindly!"

She practically sprinted to occupy the booth, instantly inserting the coins and turning the dial according the number she had memorized.

" _Hello? Rogers Residence."_

"Oh! Miss Sarah! Hello! I was calling to see if Steve was present?"

" _You and I have the same thought._ "

Vernetta heard a worried sigh escape the phone with static.

" _Now do_ you _have any idea where my son is?"_

"Not a clue, ma'am."

" _Any idea_ why _he would be missing_?"

Great. Wonderful. Such a peachy question that warmed Vernetta's cold heart. A usual low and guttural rattled her voice as she hesitated.

"Well…"

" _Well what?"_

"Bucky and I sort of had a fight. Steve was in the middle of it."

She could only picture the mother nodding her head with a tight-lipped expression.

" _Girl he adores and his best friend. How original. I take it he chose Bucky?"_

When Sarah put it like that, it disheartened the young woman. She knew back in her head that it wasn't the case. Steve himself explained that he sided with the two of them as much as he was against them. She understood Bucky had a special place in Steve's life and that he had to make sure he didn't do anything rash in his mood. Yet when she put it like that…

"Er...yes…"

" _Well, since that's the case, I would search the local bars. Tell me, where was this fight?"_

"In front of my apartment."

" _Then I suggest searching the closest ones there. No matter the reason, they'll both need a stern woman setting them straight. Just try not to cause another argument. You're more than welcome the round them up at my home. Goodbye darling."_

Sarah Rogers was definitely an odd woman. Then again, she's Irish. The line went dead and Vernetta hooked the phone back onto the stand. Check the closest bars. That was going to be a challenge. She just only hoped she wasn't the Yankees in this case.

* * *

"Midnight! _Midnight_! I read...somewhere that midnight w-was the witching...hour! Witches, Steve!"

Both Steve and the now completely drunk Bucky slowly walked the deserted pavement. Steve, despite his smaller stature, managed to help his friend stay on his feet although his feet quite literally went everywhere.

"Then we better get home soon."

"It's not just witches though! Th-there's demons and...and...and...and _ghosts_! Bad things er gonna happen!"

Humorous as it is, Bucky slurring his words and flailing his body proved to make Steve's task more difficult. Vernetta and Amelia's place was closer. Yet with what occurred earlier, it was a safer bet to let Bucky hiccup under the Rogers' cruddy roof.

"Nah. We're baptized. I think we'll be good."

"When we're dead, you idiot! No! We gotta live brother! Yer gonna..putta ring on some broad and gett'er pregnant with an...ast-uh-matic kid..."

"You too, Buck." Steve couldn't help but crack a smile. Poor kid, though.

" _Saint Michael! The Archangel!_ "

Bucky, closing his eyes, shot up an arm with an open palm. The spirit of the scripture he knew at heart was beginning the etch words behind his eyelids. He knew the words without fault despite his booming voice echoing down the street.

" _Defund-de-_ defend _us in battle!_ "

Steve was wrong about the fault.

" _Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of that goddamn devil! May God repuke-er-no,_ rebuke _him we humbly pray!"_

Bucky's sermon-like delivery only rose with intensity. Sure, there was nothing funny about prayer or God or anything. That's blasphemy. Yet with Bucky's current situation...it was pretty _damn_ funny. Steve still attempted to stifle laughs but it was useless. Bucky didn't care. Bucky was _gone_.

" _Aaand dooo thoouuu! Ooooooo Prince of the Heavenly Hoooost! By the Dee-vine Powwww-er of Gaahhd! Cast into Hell Satan and all the evil spirits! Who roam through...through...er shit. Who roam- aww fuck it- the world seeking the ruin of souls! Ahhhhhhhhh-men!"_

That was wild. Steve didn't know if laughing so hard could cause an asthma attack. If it was a known cause, Steve sure as hell would not be breathing right at the moment. Really, he was too busy laughing to breathe anyway.

"Hey...hey…"

Bucky forced the two of them to stop, stretching out his arm across Steve's chest. They were quiet for a moment.

"I think we're good now brother." Bucky nodded.

"With a prayer like that, it'll scare anything away. C'mon Buck."

He tugged his best friend along now able to think to himself. He talked about everything except Amelia and Vernetta. He screamed out his own prayer to the world, yet not even a hiccup for one of the girls they oh-so fancied. They ventured on through the night.

* * *

"I haven't seen you in awhile, my dear."

"Between working and catering to my family's needs, it's hard to see everyone."

It was past midnight and Vernetta hadn't realized that countless bars were packed into her neighborhood alone. She had, once again, underestimated the size of the city and borough. There were ten places she checked before accepting her defeat. She ran to the protection of Sarah Rogers, hoping that Steve and Bucky would turn up there.

"I didn't take you for a woman who enjoyed my company." Sarah smiled at her statement.

"You bring happiness to my son which then makes me happy. You'll understand when you have a son of your own."

"I don't think having another rambunctious Holbrook in the world is a good idea."

"They'll only have parts of you if that's of any comfort."

Sarah showed Vernetta where to drop off her things before leading her into the kitchen. She was quick to pour them some water and beckoned the young woman to sit at the table.

"I'm quite curious about you and Steve. Do you mind if I ask some questions?"

"No," Vernetta shook her head, "no not at all."

Sarah nodded. She leaned in with a mission of her face. It was no doubt fueled by Steve's misery concerning women his age.

"Do you want my son to marry you?"

Vernetta's tired blue eyes popped. Marriage was surely a stretch. They aren't even going steady. How can she expect a proposal anytime soon?

"I'm sorry?"

Sarah thought for a moment.

"Listen, I know a woman of your situation needs security. How can someone like Steve help you?"

 _Security_? What the hell is that woman talking about? Vernetta's brow furrowed. She was confused and Sarah was doing nothing to clarify. Why would she need a husband?

"Okay you can't talk like I know what you're saying. Because I _don't_."

"You're a rebellious rich girl, Vernetta. How long will it be before you're just a rebellious girl?"

Sarah Rogers was perhaps the most observant woman Vernetta had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She would thrive amongst the upper class. Steve had to get his 'no tolerance for bullies' somewhere, so Vernetta would expect her to be the most headstrong woman and a name that would inspire all regardless of class. She had hoped to avoid the impending financial situation she was steering towards.

"I take it you're hiding something?" Sarah noticed her silence.

Vernetta could only nod. Another damper to this already strange day. But it was past midnight. Being awake at such an odd time was like living in an altered reality. Anything goes.

"My parents gave me a year to decide."

"On what?"

"Whether I want to go back or not."

Vernetta sighed, rubbing her eyes. Oh yes. Her parents, even with her rebellion, didn't want to deal with her. So they gave her the right to leave until it was time that she was expected to go back. The thing is she didn't want to.

"I'm sick of everything that goes on in that world. People like you and the Barnes' are treated like _shit_ whereas people like my parents are living gods destroying themselves with debauchery and decadence."

Just thinking about her old life made her blood boil. Fists clenched. Teeth gritted against each other. Her face puckered so hard she expected her skin to tear.

"Excuse my language, Mrs. Rogers, but everything that made me _sickens_ me. I don't want to marry a man who will have plenty of mistresses to neglect me. I don't want to rear children who will hate me. I don't want to live the rest of my days high because I can't cope with the reality. I _need_ simplicity. I _need_ the ordinary."

"You need people who care about you."

Sarah moved her seat beside Vernetta, resting her hands on a shoulder and arm. Her mothering instincts kicked in and comforted the poor woman.

"I'm going to be kicked out of the will anyway." Vernetta laughed. "Being married will help me survive."

"Vernetta, this isn't the last century. You marry for love nowadays."

"Well I don't even have an opinion on Steve. He claims he's interested but hasn't done anything."

Her frustration quickly went from herself to Steve. Dangerous territory considering his own mother is right beside Vernetta. Yet she was the only other woman who understood.

"He's too timid and under-confident. I just _know_ if I try to do something, I'll push him away."

Sarah couldn't disagree on that. It was comforting to see her nod.

"Believe me, Steve is the most decent man I have ever met. I just-"

"-don't know if he's perfect. Let me tell you something."

Vernetta's attention was directed to the woman. Not that she had a choice. Sarah had turned her head for her.

"I felt the same way about my Joseph. He was that strange man who wanted to immigrate to America, to leave everything that made us who we were behind. He practically begged me to go with him and stated he would be a miserable old hermit if I didn't. I was a part of his American dream and I promise you it was the best years of my life."

"I don't mean to be insensitive, but I take it he's not here anymore?"

"You can thank the Great War and the _innovation_ of mustard gas. Died before Steve was born."

The pain in her voice was too real. Sarah smiled it off but Vernetta just knew.

"He was the love of my life. You'll find someone like that. By God, if Steve is serious-"

"-which he _isn't_."

" _-If_ he is, you'll see."

* * *

"Mah-mahh Rogers! We're hooooome!"

"Could you be louder there, Buck?"

"Bucky! Steven! Where have you boys been?!"

Their hilarious expressions were wiped clean by Mrs. Rogers' shrill voice. There she was, standing by the kitchen table in that way all angry mothers stand.

"I have been worried sick about the two of you! Even poor Vernetta was worried!"

On cue, Vernetta turned to face the pair still seated comfortably at the table. It came as a shock to Steve. He wouldn't expect her to be at his house at one in the morning.

"Oh. Hey. How was the game?"

"Yankees lost, but it was alright."

"Ver-ve-Vernetta?" Bucky squinted, struggling to even say her name.

He shrugged off Steve and stumbled towards the young woman. She studied his look. It was obvious that he was severely drunk. He was sweaty and gross and kept getting closer and closer to her. The stench was too much.

"How much did you drink?" She warily asked.

"Too...much…" He chuckled.

He pointed a finger in Vernetta's face. The great instability he was experiencing often planted his finger on her actual face. He kept poking her nose, giggling like a child.

"Hey! You-uh-tried to beat me up earlier! Whatthehellman!"

"You do remember why, right?"

"I'm a horrible guy."

Bucky got down on his knees. He rested his head on Vernetta's lap and his arms locked around her waist. Then the sniffling started.

"Imma 'orrible, no'good cheater! A foul, loathesum, e'il 'lil cockroach-ah, heh-heh-heh."

"Was he this clingy on you?" Vernetta asked Steve, who shook his head in response.

Bucky buried his face onto her skirt while tightening his hold. The sniffling became full blown wails.

"I'm 'orrible, Vur-nett-uh! I deserve nothin' but a good slap on the face!"

"Bu...Bucky…"

Vernetta looked up for any type of aid. There was a large, muscular, _weepy_ man staining her skirt with tears and mucus and somehow thought two thin, sickly persons could be able to pry him off. And the dress wasn't even _hers_.

" _I'm sorry_! Yer too precious an' I let you doooowwwwwnnn!" His howls were muffled.

"You didn't let me down, Bucky." Vernetta leaned in.

Flattening her hand, she began rubbing his back to induce comfort. Sure he was drunk. Sure he deserved her resentment. Yet seeing him in such a state earned Bucky her pity.

"You disappointed me because you let _Amelia_ down."

"Amelia-shmelia!"

It seemed that Bucky was more focused on the woman he cried on rather than the woman he wronged. The former supposed things needed to be accomplished one step at a time. It was passed midnight and the situation was a bit too complicated for a drunk man to clearly understand. Again, Vernetta locked eyes with the Rogers'.

"I don't suppose you have an extra bed for him, do you?"

Steve was the one who stepped forward, leaning down to pry his best friend off Vernetta. It was their first embrace: Steve leaning in to unlock Bucky's hands and then pry them from her hips. Their noses would've touched if he wasn't so shy. He instead turned his head at an angle where he completely avoided her gaze.

"We practically lived at each other's places."

"So you have one at his?"

Steve turned his head and finally faced Vernetta. She was still so beautiful after the wear of the day that rubbed off any makeup she had put on hours earlier. Dark circles were visible under her eyes, uneven textures and redness reclaimed her skin, even her lips weren't the shade of vibrant red Steve was so used to. It made his heart skip a beat seeing her like this. She finally looked normal, but he knew she didn't want that. His mind had wandered, not realizing he simply stared into her eyes.

"What? Oh, yeah." He shook his head.

"How adorable."

Steve and Bucky's friendship was too precious. With the former's help, Vernetta got Bucky and slung one of his arms around her.

"Vernetta, take James up. You're welcome to stay the night. Steve, you and I are going to have a _talk_."

Sarah's tone was motherly, although not the warm and comforting type. They all knew Steve was going to get the greatest tongue lashing a person could ever get from their mother. Vernetta hobbled off with Bucky, hearing only silence from the kitchen all the way upstairs.

* * *

"Are you able to take off your clothes?"

Bucky sat with a blank stare and Vernetta hovered over. Tears still ran down his cheeks, not that he was aware however. It appeared that he ran her words through his head over and over. Then a sloppy grin appeared.

"You tryin' to take advantage of me?"

"Bucky, I swear-."

The woman stopped and shook her head. She was not going to get a real answer out of him anytime soon.

"What're you doin'?"

"Be still."

Vernetta first pulled off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. Bucky kept trying to touch her fingers and with every attempt, she slapped his hand away until the next time. She burned with embarrassment. Thankfully, he wore an undershirt. She hoped it was the same under the belt.

"I don't want you to be mad at me…" Bucky's voice cracked.

Vernetta kept her tongue under lock and key. She threw off his shoes, tugged off his socks, but she hesitated in the last step. All that remained was his belt and trousers. Somehow, Bucky recognized the uncomfortable look etched into her face. He didn't even let her near that away. He undid everything just fine after swatting her hand away.

"Now that you're ready for bed, I'll be going."

She wanted to turn on her heels and hightail it out of there. Yet she could only accomplish the first part.

"No, please don't go. I'm sorry…" Bucky clamped a hand around her wrist.

Their heads hung low: Vernetta still facing the door, Bucky facing her back. She didn't take him to be a needy drunk despite all that's happened.

"What could you possibly need?" Vernetta turned back. "What could you need instead of sleep and sobriety?"

She sat beside him just trying to figure out this enigma of a man. He was defeated and succumbed to it, but by what?

"You need sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Yeah. I guess."

New York was a city that never sleeps. Automobiles dominated the night and the sound poured into the apartment. Sarah's voice had risen while her son's was not even in existence. Alcohol and cologne filled Vernetta's nostrils.

"You smell like vanilla." Bucky whispered, his alcohol breath engulfing the pair of them. "You smell drunk." A small laugh escaped.

A sudden hand wandered onto her knee. The woman's thoughts instantly imagined her retracting from the bed and telling the man goodnight, walking out without a doubt. Yet something more emotional held her back, letting her heart pound and her mind numb.

"So I still have my perfume on?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose it works then. You know what they say about expensive perfumes…"

His hand slid higher.

"Yer too precious…"

All the moments of yelling and sobbing rendered his voice only to be able to croak his words. It gave Vernetta goosebumps, so low and hoarse it almost sounded husky.

"Am I really?"

"Of course."

Bucky looked at Vernetta in a way every woman wanted to be looked at. Behind glossy eyes, he was still there and knew what he was doing. She couldn't even recall a moment where a man looked at her in such a way that it made her knees weak. Her mind screamed that this was wrong and it was.

"Why did you get drunk?" She inched closer to him.

"I made you angry, _so_ angry that you hit me in front of people. What good am I if it comes to that?"

"You are always worth everything, even if no one believes it. That also includes yourself."

Bucky started laughing. His palm flew from her thigh to her cheek, a warm and welcome embrace for Vernetta. His hand was the right feeling of coarseness that let women know a man was there ready to do anything. It comforted her. No one had touched her like that before.

"It must be my damn birthday!" He whispered. "I got the most gorgeous babydoll tellin' me I'm worth everythin'!"

Babydoll. She liked that. She liked that _a lot_.

"And yet you got drunk."

Bucky immediately came to her comforting after hearing the disappointment in her tone. Both hands were resting on her cheeks, eyes widened, and his speech was rapid.

"I-I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't know you don't like drinkin'. If I did, I wouldn't've…"

"It's okay, Bucky." She smiled, sliding her own hands above his. "Don't change yourself for a girl."

"Well what if she's a rich socialite and I'm just... _me_?"

Oh dear God. Skips in her heart almost felt like palpitations. She couldn't stop the words from escaping.

"This rich socialite thinks you're perfect. What about her?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Yeah she does."

The stale air of the day's events was long gone. Instead, the fresh early morning air was all that lingered between Vernetta and Bucky. Yet that gap only shrunk as with each heartbeat, they grew closer and closer.

She could feel his harsh stubble graze against her skin.

Their lips found each other, Bucky's wet and thin lips pressing against Vernetta's dry and cracked ones. It started out innocent enough. They were soft, heads only slightly tilted, noses smashed against the other. But then want and need seeped into their desires. Bucky grabbed Vernetta and pressed her against him so tight that there was no escape. She couldn't even breathe with her breasts so flattened on his chest.

The woman instead opened her mouth wider and shoved her tongue into him, tasting the very drinks he had earlier. Their heads kept moving, trying to find all the spots that made it feel good. Vernetta had never felt such ecstasy flowing through her body. She replied with an even hungrier kiss, often pulling back to breathe before delving right back in. Bucky's soft moans vibrated into her mouth feeling his own pleasure run through her. She wanted more. She _craved_ more. Something in her stated that if Steve wasn't here, she'd let Bucky take her on the bed at this very moment. But that thought ended everything. Her mind finally forced itself into control after remembering Steve. She had hurt him, betrayed him without him ever knowing. Instantly she pulled back and her head craned down.

"You should, um, go to sleep now." Her voice was weak.

She felt Bucky's arms go limp and she was free to leave. Not even a glance back when Vernetta walked out. Downstairs, Steve and Sarah were still talking.

"I managed to put him to bed." She quickly nodded. "It'd be best if I went home now."

"Oh. Really?" Disappointment clung to Steve's words.

"It'd be... _improper_ if I stayed. I hope you understand."

"Of course. It's just I don't want you going out alone."

He was so caring. She had been lusting for his best friend not even a minute before. She felt like the stereotypical upper class girl, the one that got what she wanted at the price of ruining everything. She came to Brooklyn to avoid becoming such a thing. Yet there she stood exactly like them.

"I'll be fine, I promise. I just need to go."

Vernetta quickly said her goodbyes before quickly walking to the door. Whatever was she going to do now?

* * *

 **A/N: Oooh! Now what did I say about it getting all spicy up in here? I do truly hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'll be seeing you in the next! Again, you guys are rockstars!**


	6. Chapter 6: Baker Girls

**A/N: Wow! That was a huge wait between the chapters! Well between work and drama, I sure hope I delivered! Again, thank you all for doing what you do best! Special shout out to the amazing Guest review I received! That winky face made me feel especially pleased ;) Well anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter Six: Baker Girls

 _He opened his eyes to a golden world too good to be true. Laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, it looked like an ordinary room. But it was bright. Bucky felt that there was something off. He felt warm, too._

" _Oh, you're awake."_

 _Thin fingers trailed his bare chest and red fingernails would lightly graze the surface. From the hand to the arm, Bucky trailed up to the neck and found a familiar pair of eyes staring back up to him._

" _Oh don't be silly." The woman smirked. "Don't tell me you forgot all about little ol' me?"_

" _Ver-vernetta! Uh, no! I would never forget about you."_

 _She was cuddled up against Bucky with her head resting on his shoulder, a looker not willing to let go. She smiled and tilted her head._

" _What exactly happened?"_

" _Well, we had our little kiss and one thing led to another."_

 _With her words, Bucky noticed their bare skin pressed against each other. He felt his heart beginning to pound, stomach buzzing with all the butterflies inside._

" _Oh Bucky, you're just the man of my dreams." Vernetta sighed, scooting closer and nuzzling his neck. "So kind and strong, not to mention handsome."_

" _Vernetta…"_

 _She instantly planted her lips upon his, kissing Bucky with a passion that stole the breath out of them just like the night before. Her teeth nibbled on his lower lip pulling and growling with lust. Vernetta's hand that caressed his chest slowly traveled down his body until the groan she was looking for escaped. It made her smile and grope him more._

" _Vernetta…" Bucky shuddered._

" _Do you want me, baby?"_

" _Oh god yes."_

 _Vernetta kept stroking growing bolder with every moan that vibrated through his throat. She began kissing his cheeks tenderly, planting her lips all over the flesh upon his face and throat. But she was a smart woman, only brushing over Bucky's own lips that made him more tense. She threw a leg over him and before he knew it, Vernetta was on top of him. She guided his hands to her naked breasts before returning to her other duty. Bucky became mesmerized and the tension growing in him became worse._

" _Do you need me?"_

" _I_ need _you, Vernetta. Oh god, I need you…"_

* * *

"Bucky!" Steve shook his friend.

He was just fine with minding his own business by sleeping. The moans had become more intense when it woke Steve up. He tried shaking him awake but Bucky still murmured.

Steve _lightly_ slapped his face multiple times before he could see the green in his best friend's eyes. There was a hazy pleasure in his eye. It disappeared after blinking and Steve only saw the horrified expression take it's place.

"Having a wet dream there?" Steve laughed, slapping his arm.

Bucky immediately pulled the blankets up, only growling and dropping his head back onto the pillow. He didn't really give an answer to the other man. No, his bolted up and left the room covering his groin.

"I'm gonna take a shower…"

"Make sure it's a cold one." Steve quipped, earning himself resentment and his own laughter.

He was quick to think about it once Bucky was gone. " _I need you_ " and " _Vernetta, Vernetta, Vernetta_ ". It was safe to say as much as she hated the man, there was nothing she could to do smother his unresolved affections. But then Steve reminded himself that his best friend just experienced a naughty dream about perhaps the most beautiful woman they've ever met. He could only shrug. There was nothing strange about it as much as it made him uncomfortable. He instead chose to dress himself and head downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

Vernetta was surrounded by skyscrapers rather than the usual lowly brick buildings. She had dressed herself in more proper attire and sat at one of the modern outdoor cafes. There was a cause and the name was comfort. She couldn't tell her brothers, their morals were warped. She couldn't tell Amelia, she would kill her. She certainly couldn't tell Steve. No, only one person was capable of handling the scandalous truth.

"By all that glitters, is that _the_ Vernetta Holbrook?!"

She turned and saw none other than Victoria Barron, her old best friend and current queen of the socialites, and rose to greet her.

"Oh Victoria, I'm so pleased to see you."

"Likewise."

Both women hugged before seating themselves.

"Now, I know you called me to help correct your mistake, but you have so many in your purse!"

"I don't follow."

"Your first mistake was disappearing without a trace! And then I learn that you settled in _Brooklyn_?"

Vernetta nodded. She knew that she would have to relive her entire summer for the sake of meager advice. But then again, she'll get the latest scoop in Manhattan's elite when it's Victoria's turn.

"Alright, alright, I got tired of all the nonsense and left. Figured another borough would do me good and it has. I work in a clothing store."

" _Work_?! My sweet best friend now a poor working girl!" She snickered.

Vernetta went ahead and started with her tale right as she found a woman in need of an apartment. When they first met, Amelia was a recent high school graduate that needed space from her parents in Queens. They first bonded over the fact that they thought an entirely foreign borough would do them some good. Vernetta had found the apartment, Amelia had found the help wanted sign at No.19 and they've been there ever since. Then it was mid-May and two very distinct customers had walked in with style on their minds.

"Ooh! Are they men? I have a feeling this is the beginning to your problem." Victoria interrupted with her giggling.

"You were always so observant! Yes, they're men and one of them in particular is the problem. But anyway…"

She spared no detail about Steve and Bucky with the former as her subject. There was the suit, the graduation, almost the entire month of June that he ignored her. Victoria questioned why her best friend would be interested in someone like that and she was quick to explain that he was the kindest person she's ever met. He was nothing like them or anyone they knew.

"Well, what about that Bucky guy?"

"He's exactly like Bobby albeit much more tamed."

"And which one of them is your problem?"

"Bucky."

"Shocker."

Vernetta refused to tell all until Victoria told her all about her own summer of splendour. Luckily she indulged her with the finest stories.

"So I'm taking a stroll in the rain, replete in lace, ribbons, and my most favorite polka-dot umbrella when a limo happens to pull up. Of course, it's _Walter_."  
"' _Would you like me to give you a ride?'_ Of course! How kind! Then he pulls a ' _Just say those three magic words then._ ' It's this little game he plays despite my voice constantly reminding him of my disinterest. But I indulged him. Those three words finally got through his thick skull."

" _I hate you_. Oh, you wouldn't believe how fast a limo could speed away!"

"Ugh, _Walter!_ How dare he think he's good enough for you!"

"I just hope he'll finally leave me alone!"

The pair spent the better part of morning and midday gossiping as more cups of tea and pastries appeared on the small grated table. There was so much drama on both ends that they could spend the remainder of the day sitting at the cafe.

"Now tell me of your dilemma!"

Victoria was so excited that Vernetta couldn't believe that she was going to deliver something so tame yet scandalous. She should be talking about an engagement or something deserving of such excitement. Still, her friend would get a kick out of this.

"So...Bucky…"

"So... _Bucky_ …" Victoria copied with a grin before her lips formed an "O" and clapped wildly. "Wait! I must know what he looks like!"

Tall. Dark-haired. Green-eyed. Extremely handsome. Vernetta couldn't exactly describe him with the juicy details Victoria oh-so craved.

"So...he first dated Amelia. Not even a month together and he cheated on her. I found out when I saw him with the other girl and yesterday, I got into a fight with him and he ran off after Bobby pulled a gun on him. He ended up getting so drunk that Steve had to help him back to his own house. I was there talking to Sarah Rogers because she found out about my legal dilemma."

"Wait, how did she find out?"

"She's smarter than she looks. I think she could certainly hold her own in our world."

"She must be legendary then."

"You have no idea."

Vernetta continued about how Steve got a lecture from his mother that made her deal with Bucky all by herself. He was so resentful and pitiful that it made her feel awful. He didn't deserve her attacks but he sure doesn't deserve to be let off easy. Vernetta then attempted to make him go to bed but then some sort of charm broke through. Something in him seduced her. That's when _it_ happened.

"You shoved your tongue down his throat. Ooooh, classic Vernetta." Victoria smirked.

"No! No, no! That's not me anymore! I'm pursuing one and one only!"

"Seems to me that despite your beliefs, you're after the wrong man."

Only the sounds of Manhattan stole their voices for a moment and more. There was wisdom in what Victoria told her. Sure, she liked Steve. He's good because he's innocent. But Bucky, he's what she _needs._ Of course it was the little things that men do that made women fantasize about them. He touched her shamelessly. He gave her a special pet name she's never heard him utter until that moment. He noticed her perfume. She was precious to him. It made Vernetta wonder just how long Bucky's harbored feelings for her. He's always been attentive but she can't tell if that was due to his nature or heart. Still, her shoulders dropped.

"So between a man who's perfect and a man who gives you what you need, it's obvious what my decision would be."

"Go for the more pleasurable one. Yes, I know."

Vernetta figured a dramatic eyeroll would hit the nail in her statement. Women of their breed were often gluttonous, having one man and then moving to the next in an instant. Another popular method was to share themselves between multiple men. Vernetta would have no part in such a thing, yet it blossomed and placed her in an awkward position. Victoria opened her mouth for another possibility but Vernetta knew all too well her words before being spoken.

"I will _not_ share myself with them either."

The socialite fell back into her seat.

"Well you're more boring than I remember." She huffed.

* * *

Once she heard the door open and shut, Amelia was quick to yell for Vernetta.

"Vernetta, get in here!"

Her maturing maternal tone struck Amelia herself to the bone. She didn't mean to be so like _that_ , yet Vernetta forced her voice. The latter walked in with her fancy get-up and a face well-aware of the trouble she's in.

"I come home to find my closet completely raided and when I wait up for you until _two in the morning_ , you gave me the cold shoulder!"

Vernetta didn't have much to say. Really, she didn't utter a word. Her stare was full of exhaustion and her face blank with a tilted head.

"Are you going to lecture me or something?"

An odd question for someone like Vernetta. Amelia had attempted to add a light tone to her words yet her friend had somehow become a brick wall since the last time they met. Something had happened. That's when Amelia remembered.

"And my dress?"

"I haven't had time to clean it."

"You clearly have time to fly away to Manhattan looking like _that_."

"Well since you're being rather rude I'll go do it now." Vernetta turned and walked out of the room.

Amelia clung to her heel and watched as she tossed her purse carelessly onto the sofa before swerving towards her own room. She tried to demand an answer on why her dress would be considered unclean. Silence only replied.

"Vernetta, I swear…"

Amelia pushed past and was the first to open the door. Vernetta didn't seem to care, though. She acted as if she were hiding something yet when intruded, she became aloof. Perhaps she was tired? Annoyed, obviously, but Amelia just had to know what occurred at a safe pace. She just knew her dress was the starter.

The bed was clean. The floor was clean. The only chair pushed against the front left corner had a strange mass bunched up on the cushion and Amelia went for it. She inspected it with great care. No soda stains or ketchup smudges like she expected. Only the scent of a perfumed woman surviving summer clung to the thread. That couldn't be it though. Amelia laid her dress flat on Vernetta's bed. The backside was the first to be inspected. She then flipped the dress and there it was; light and dark stains on the front of the skirt. Smears, smudges, clean drops, she was just as confused as ever. Amelia glanced up to the woman leaning against the doorframe.

"What is this?"

"Oh, a mixture of alcoholic slobber, snot and tears."

Her face scrunched up in confusion, prompting further explanation.

"You're ex-boyfriend is a weepy and needy drunk, surprisingly. Drank himself into probably the most historic hangover because of regret."

Vernetta didn't continue. Somehow, Amelia knew that she knew exactly why yet didn't say. The way she avoided her look was key but the glint in her eye when she finally faced her said it all. She wouldn't pry. Not too heavily at the moment.

"Why were you with _him_?" Amelia's voice darkened.

"Why I'll tell you."

Vernetta delivered the truth spanning from striking Bucky in public to tucking Bucky in bed. It was an odd situation indeed. Once Amelia knew that Steve had been in the middle of this tension, it made sense. Vernetta was _obliged_ to check in on the pair of them for his sake as well as her own.

"I called him a foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach and how I thought he was a good man. I guess me saying something about his nature stuck with him. He broke down when he saw me and called himself the same things."

"Well...he was drunk." Amelia slowly picked up where her friend dropped off.

She had done it. The dress _was_ the key to the door full of Vernetta talking with such intensity that she paced and made expressions and went back to the experience herself. Her hands moved faster as her eyes grew more bold.

"I basically was pitting brothers against each other! I hadn't realized until I called Sarah and she phrased it in such a way that made me feel absolutely _terrible_! Can you believe that?!"

Amelia opened her mouth but more feverish words silenced her.

"Perhaps I am some broad coming between them! But the Steve I know wouldn't abandon the both of us! I wanted him to go with Bucky! I even told Eddie I'd rather have him help someone he considered family than to come to some silly baseball game. And the Yankees lost, Amelia! _Lost_! It would've been even more devastating if Steve was there with us…"

"I am sorry I brushed you off last night." Vernetta finally apologized after a lengthy rant. "Last night was just... _unexpected_."

"Hey, don't sweat it. But you do need to fix my closet. I left it just for you."

The pair smirked at each other.

"Of course you'd put me to work."

* * *

Hazel's dark hair was short and curly beneath her wide-brimmed hat. She often found it as a hobby to find a random hat and place it upon her pretty head. The girl would stroll about the apartment taking anything that would be worn above her hair. Hazel preferred ones that Bucky somehow got from Steve, mostly worn in baseball caps dirtied from time and sweat. But she had an appearance to keep up now. Ever since Vernetta Holbrook graced herself into Steve's life, inadvertently Bucky's and her own, she had become so dazzled with her that many poked fun at her. Hazel wasn't in love with her. No, sure she was enamoured but not in that way. She wanted to be _like_ her.

Bucky had stumbled in earlier when Hazel began reading a new book. Apparently it's been around for a while now, yet she just had to figure out why Vernetta referenced it so much. Her brother shuffled in all exhausted and rugged looking. She only quickly glanced up before returning to the print.

"Heard you got completely juiced up."

His smile was forced as he went further and chuckled. She could tell he really just needed to sleep.

"Sarah called mom, told her all she saw and heard."

"For Christ's sake, it ain't your business."

"My only question is why did you seek comfort in a girl who humiliated you in public?"

He only laughed at her words, picking up his steps. He had spurned his sister's questions and trotted upstairs leaving her to sit and wonder what had happened.

' _Hungover and moody'_ she thought and went back to her book.

It was peaceful for a short amount of time before the doorbell echoed within the walls. Dad was working. Mom was shopping. The twins were taking care of Thomas and Hazel knew exactly what her older brother was doing. She was most likely the only one on the first floor.

She answered the door to find a well-dressed dame waiting at the step, fine fabrics and high fashion clinging to her body. Her first thought that it was Vernetta here for Bucky. Somehow, she would be the person to know everything thanks to Steve. Hazel smiled and greeted her.

"Vernetta! How wonderful to see you! Y'know, Bucky just came home although I don't think he'll be taking visitors. Heard he got drunk like it was still prohibition."

Vernetta laughed but with that, Hazel realized her sudden thinking landed her into the humor of a complete stranger.

"Dear child, Vernetta explained everything to me when we met for tea!" She giggled. "I'm obliged to help my best friend even if she doesn't want it."

The only best friend she knew about was Amelia but she wasn't this, well, _rich_. Her tone was obviously stuffed with money and the aura emitted superiority. Yet her behavior was kind and perhaps a bit open.

The woman noticed Hazel's bewildered expression. She fell forward with a hand upon chest all smiles and comfort.

"I'm Victoria! I grew up with Vernetta in Manhattan! I was completely surprised to find her in Brooklyn. Especially when I found out she was fraternizing with the likes of your brother."

Fraternizing? Does she mean to say Vernetta's been friendly to him? Well, that couldn't be the heart of the drama Hazel knows it there. Of course they were friendly with each other!

"Well yeah, they're friends with each other and Steve."

Victoria leaned back, an honest smile puckering into a face belonging to someone with gossip. Her thin fingers covered the giggle the escaped.

"You're too young to understand, aren't you?" She smirked. Then her eyes diverted to her head. "That's quite a beautiful hat you got there! It nearly resembles something I'd find back in the borough."

"Oh! Well, thank you, but this is just some silly wicker hat."

"Don't say that! Maybe if it were black or made with a finer straw, it could be the next rage!"

Victoria stepped forward and adjusted the hat until her lips proved to be satisfied.

"It looks so haute couture when just tilted slightly! You might be onto something, dear child!"

"I'm just wearing a hat. You're the one with suggestions." Victoria placed her hands on hazel's shoulders.

"You're the first person I have seen in some years to _not_ wear one of those silly cloche hats."

"So you're saying you can make a hat fashionable?"

"I suppose. A new decade is dawning and I would prefer it to be fresh."

Hazel invited Victoria in and led her into the sitting room. She felt embarrassed bringing someone like her into a quaint home such as _this_. But it seemed the older woman was mesmerized by her surroundings.

"Speaking of fresh," she slowly slid against the fireplace, "you have no idea how lovely it is to see modest accommodations rather than ones that seem to belong to the Windsors."

"The who?" Hazel's brow furrowed.

"The Royal Family in Great Britain?"

"Oh…"

Victoria waltzed around and ending her walk when she spotted a colorful blue book sitting quietly on the sofa. It was more than familiar to her memory.

"Everybody seems to hate the Gatsby novel, yet you read it? Critics hated it, the general public hated it. I swear I thought only a handful of people enjoyed it."

She made a place on the sofa with Hazel moving to sit beside her. She watched as the woman picked up the book and ran through the pages. The first spot to open was the scrap of paper acting as a bookmark. Victoria read only a few words before a smile erupted on her face.

"You're at Nick's first party. I love it especially since perhaps the most famous Jordan Baker quote lies in this chapter."

Hazel waited for her to say the quote. She had only started the chapter

"In true spirit to her philosophy, I want to throw a party with all the decadence and bleeding hearts this book has."

"Oh?"

"And I want you and your handsome brother and whoever you deem worthy to attend!"

Victoria clapped but Hazel was just as confused. A strange woman who happened to be Vernetta's old friend was inviting her to a party for rich people. Nothing can be more baffling than that.

"Er...may I ask _why_?"

Victoria hesitated for a moment, only offering the girl a look in the eye before blinking some secret away.

"You're a lovely girl and a friend of Vernetta! I feel she'd be more comfortable with Brooklynites in attendance."

Too rehearsed. Too overused as an excuse. She may be young but Hazel could pick up on the strange sense Victoria had about her now. A quick and fast-paced woman suddenly hesitating? The girl knew immediately that there was something more.

"I'll actually go if you tell me the truth." Hazel crossed her arms and held her chin high.

She did it again, Victoria and her hesitation. She attempted to emerge as the true meaning of her name. Little did she know that she challenged a stubborn girl who also happened to be a Barnes.

"Little girls should be concerned with little girl things."

"I know a lot more than you think. And I don't appreciate the conceited tone."

The answer seemed to satisfy the woman. Her sneering look softened and an eventual nod followed.

"You'd do good in my world. It's important to pick up on the little things, _especially_ voice."

She smoothed out her skirt.

"Our Vernetta seems to fancy a man who happens to _not_ be Steve. Your brother, humiliated by her, got drunk with regret. She checked on him later and, well, a passionate revelation ensued."

"Spill the normal people beans!" Victoria rolled her eyes.

"They kissed! Although that's what I wouldn't call it."

Bucky and Vernetta... _kissed_? No, that couldn't be! She would never go for a man of his ill reputation! His latest scorn involved Amelia! Vernetta wouldn't even _dream_ of being near him! Plus, there was Steve! She wouldn't dare hurt such a sweet man!

"She... _they_ wouldn't do that…" Hazel hesitated her own words.

" _Oh really_?" She tilted her head. "You're telling me you know that the _real_ Vernetta gets what she wants no matter the obstacle? Interesting…"

Hazel pondered between now and that fateful May day. That's when it hit her astute sense of vision and hearing. He completely _gushed_ over her once the front door closed and only his family remained within the brick. She loved the dysfunctional stories about the Barnes family. He let her talk before voicing his own opinion, which seemed strange to him yet made sense to Hazel. He seemed more focused on her than Amelia. She seemed to read him like a book even only after meeting him a couple of times. One sentence stuck with him after a moment of silence between him and Vernetta.

" _Then tell me about you._ "

Oh geez, she can still remember that cheesy smile and starstruck glint in his eye when he came home and told her. Now that was something only the two siblings shared. Their parents would tease, the twins were nosy loudmouths, and Thomas was an infant. It had only been so obvious. She had always picked up on the cues that rang bells. Yet she couldn't put the puzzle together until Victoria handed her the final piece. Her eyes widened with disbelief.

"Oh my god!" Her brows furrowed. "My brother's in love with Vernetta Holbrook!"

"And I believe Vernetta's heading down that same path."

Hazel could definitely read the mischievous look in Victoria's eye. Over and over, she kept apologizing to Steve in her head. Then the "but" entered her thought. Hazel knew there were plenty of nice girls out there who could fall for Steve. Ain't nothing bad about him. Yet she wasn't entirely convinced that Bucky could passionately fall for another woman. This was too intense to be one of his simple flames.

"Just like Jordan said: ' _I like large parties. They're so intimate. At small parties there isn't any privacy.'_ "

* * *

 **A/N: Ooooooh! Now what are our girls planning? ;) I'll try to update quicker but I'm not making promises! Stay tuned!**


	7. Chapter 7: A Barron Ball

**A/N: For once, I don't really have anything special to say before I kick off the new chapter. I just hope you guys enjoy it!**

* * *

Book One: Antebellum

Chapter Seven: A Barron Ball

"Oh, hey!" Steve rose from the red booth.

He waited eagerly for the jingle followed by the bombshell blonde he's been so blessed with. Earlier while Bucky _showered_ , Steve ate breakfast with his mother and she indulged in her favorite sin: Gossip. Now he knew everything. Something in him wanted to man up and drop to one knee. He just didn't know how go about it, let alone provide for the rest of their lives. But one thing was certain. In the short time he's known her, it was safe to say he was in love. Sure, it was a whole lot slower than all the other young and fresh couples he's known. By god, half of his graduating class tied the knot with each other or whoever they went steady with by now. It was only him, Bucky, and probably only a handful of the class that was still single. He was unsure about this whole situation. At least his mother approved. There certainly would be hell to pay if she didn't and he did. But first, baby steps.

"Steve! Oh, you look so good today!"

She sounded breathless. Breathless was good. Right?

"Well, I try."

"You don't need to! You've got a handsome face most are too vain to see."

The way she rested a hand upon his cheek, something stirred within. Everyone he's met agreed that he had quite the face. Very few, however, accepted his body. Vernetta didn't seem bothered and that made his stomach flutter.

"Would you like to sit?"

"That would be lovely."

They both slid into the red booth. Vernetta took the extra step by removing her sunglasses and sunhat. The last to go were her gloves and after they were tossed aside, she immediately reached over the table. She set a hand above Steve's.

"It's so nice to see you well rested...and without a drunk friend."

"Yeah, well, you should've heard him yelling."

"He did leave his mark on my skirt, so I have an idea."

Steve and Vernetta ordered and conversed only pausing twice. First to be served was their sodas followed shortly by their meals.

"So I met up with an old friend yesterday. Told her all about Brooklyn and you."

"Manhattan girl?"

"Nothing less. She's the queen bee, actually."

Steve's heart palpitated. He knew Vernetta would speak so freely and highly of her experience in the borough, yet didn't think in the whole wide world she'd talk about him of all things. He tried to muster some courage to remain composed and kept the conversation going.

"Queen bee?" He tilted his head.

"You know, the leader in a girl group? In this case it's not really a group but more of all of New York's young socialites."

Vernetta's "adventure" would surely spread like wildfire throughout the state with those kind of connections. It made Steve a little uneasy, knowing his name would be passed around and couldn't do a thing about it.

"The thing about gossip is that it doesn't have to be real." She read the look on his face. "We know the truth about us and that's all that should matter.

There was something more to that than her and Steve verses the rich world. No, the way she tightened her grip on him, the sad twinkle in her eye, it said more than she let on. Steve assumed it had something to do with her predicament. As far as she knew, only Amelia and Sarah were let on to the fact that she would have nothing, _be_ nothing in her eyes. Steve put another hand over her.

"I'll always be here for you, Vernetta."

"I know." She smiled. "You're such a good man. It's such a shame most don't see that."

Vernetta saw it. Yet, she didn't want it. All those months of pining and her true feelings finally surface.

* * *

Her music was enough to bring tears to the eyes of even the most jaded of souls. She guessed it had something to do with her own heavy energy pouring into fingers. Whether it was received by the strings of her most prized violin or the blanche keys of a grand piano, a girl like Gloria Lawrence could ensnare an entire party. It was unfortunate that she often serviced them instead of performing wonders. But then again, her polishing skills and table setting were quite the rage in the housekeeping community. Just shy of seventeen, she hopped from one American manor to the next as did her mother and her mother before hoping to one day be a princess in the spotlight. Yet girls like Madeleine Tinsley and Caroline Mortimer keep getting the flashes they well don't deserve with their reckless and unapologetic behaviors. Most of the light filters on that brazen excuse of a well-bred girl named Victoria Barron so suddenly from the even more impudent Vernetta Holbrook. Yet ever since the previous night, whispers had been growing. Victoria was about to throw her first soiree introducing her as the queen of the socialites. No Vernetta in sight, either, which was quite fascinating. As much as Gloria despised the culture of wealth, she oh-so enjoyed hearing about all the trainwrecks.

"Oh you would not _believe_ the details Victoria shared."

Gloria tended to the siblings Charlotte and Samuel Devereux by refilling their drinks or cleaning up their messes. Until she was called upon, she was a wallflower. One with perfectly capable ears that is.

"I wouldn't believe a word she says." The sister was quick to wave away the words. "So what she's throwing a stupid party?"

"People tell me that this party will revive the dead. You know? Blonde? Lipstick enthusiast? Ye' high?"

"Too many girls with that description, dear brother."

"Who's the most prestigious of us who disappeared recently? Go on, tell me!"

Gloria stared into the blank space as the Devereux's rose their voices. She heard only ill remarks about the Holbrook family, and that Victoria was planning on luring her predecessor back into the fold.

"Oh she wouldn't dare!"

"I speak no lie, Charlotte. Victoria will break her heart to show her that wherever she ended up isn't good for her."

"But..Vernetta will surely dethrone her if that succeeds."

"Dear sister, one Queen Victoria ruled for sixty-three years. This one will surely rule for sixty- _four_."

They schemed to see tears fall from Vernetta's perfect eyes. No way were they going to let her think that running away came with no strings attached. No, Charlotte instead telephoned her queen and affirmed her alliance. It was with a cold look to her maid that really struck a deal.

"I have a maid in my service: a pretty distraction who's the next Mozart. Will that do?"

Gloria fought to keep her eyes down. She knew very well Charlotte was talking about her.

"Pretty enough to distract a Brooklyn boy? How odd...yet I believe so."

Her eyes went up. Gloria finally saw the horrible Devereaux woman she's served for a year with her own eyes.

* * *

"What in the hell?"

There was a fancy envelope in the mailbox all crisp and white. And of course, how could he forget the gold seal with a large 'B' taking up most of it? _Rich people_.

Bucky examined the outside but only found the seal and his address written in smooth cursive. Probably for one of his sisters but that still didn't sit right with him. Dorothy and Doris were completely out of the question so it fell to the more believable choice named Hazel. Finally moving up in the world, he guessed.

"Here, this is for you."

Bucky was quick to throw the envelope on his sister's desk and planned to dash out of her room. It was so girly that it made him uncomfortable, and they're related. He was used to the strange things Hazel does or likes. But her bedroom? _Never_.

The girl herself glanced up and smirked.

"Me and _you_."

She was quick to peel off the envelope and study the invitation that riddled her with anticipation. A Barron Ball as the event was named.

"What do you mean 'Me and _you_.'?"

"We're going to this. Together." Hazel held up the invitation. "I'm gonna be your wingwoman."

"Why the hell would you be my wingwoman?"

She flashed him a look all sisters who knew secrets had. She even held up a hand to make the look more believable.

"Uh, to help you and Vernetta of course?"

Bucky smirked, eventually throwing back for a laugh. Hazel didn't know what was so funny. She simply stared at him waiting for the end of it.

"I don't think I heard you right-"

"-Because you're still probably too hungover to function properly."

Hazel was jittery. She was _definitely_ jittery and as giddy as a girl could be. She turned away from the desk and towards her brother with the biggest smile in the whole world.

"Usually people reach couple status before they shove each other's tongues down their throats."

She rose a brow. He dropped his cocky smile. That simple act made Hazel maniacal.

"Don't worry." She wiped away the tears. "I'm dead set on helping you. Even got a little friend pulling the strings."

"Oh jesus christ, _more_ people know. It'll be only a matter of time before Steve finds out…"

* * *

Bobby was certainly furious. He had just caught wind of the little Barron Ball in production catching the Upper East Side by storm. His first reaction was that he couldn't believe he wasn't invited. He was better than the Barrons, of course they'd try to shut him out and his entire family. But that wasn't what piqued his interest. Whispers. Oh yes, the whispers had returned and they spelled an eight letter word. Disrepute came close but in a delicate situation such as this, of course it had to be Vernetta. Victoria wouldn't just up and secretly invite Vernetta. How in the hell did she find out about Brooklyn? This was going to have to involve some sleuth work.

He lounged in the family Hamptons away from all the Manhattan nonsense. It was a safe place to begin. The golden light of a beachside dawn was a clear indication to Bobby that his last step of preparation had finally arrived. As the early bird of the family, his breakfast was cooked first as he read the daily paper while sipping on some fresh tea. Even a man like him had a time frame of when it was appropriate to drink alcohol.

"Camilla, fetch me the telephone." Bobby rang a bell.

The maid did as she was told, bringing rotary candlestick and lightly set it on the side. It was pure white with intricate gold patterns. Most would favor sets that included gilded details: the appearance of gold and grandeur. But he was too good to merely pretend, so real gold it was. Camilla tucked the wire beneath the table and slinked back to the wall awaiting another command.

Bobby had written a number on a small white card the night before. Now it stared straight up to him. Should he call? Should he _refrain_? His sinister soul decided for him, reaching for the candlestick with one hand and turned the rotary with the other. He patiently listened to the constant rings.

" _Tinsley Residence._ " A snobby voice answered the telephone. English butler, no doubt.

"Ah yes, Mr. Archibald. It's Robert Holbrook calling. Is the young Miss in?"

" _A moment, if you will._ "

Bobby waited, thinking that in the future, there better be telephones where one could transfer the line immediately. He flipped through the pages deciding on who to invite. Most of his people were in her directory, so it would be up to his distinguished taste.

" _Bobby_?" A female voice entered his head. " _What dares you to call?"_

"Madeleine! It's one word, eight letters, ran off at the start of summer, newly returned to the fold for a brief period."

" _Vernetta?! Where on earth has she been?"_

"A secret that's no longer hidden. Somehow, a little Barron ventured out of her territory."

There was a pregnant pause.

" _What would make her do such a thing?_ "

"You ask her. Party in the Hamptons tomorrow night, Barron House."

" _Why would I even consider driving all the way out there_?"

"Because I have a bad feeling that the first thing my sister will step in when she returns is _shit_."

* * *

"No.19, this is Vernetta."

" _Vernetta darling. It's Victoria. Have a minute?"_

Amelia nodded and took over the appointment as Vernetta made herself at home at the front desk. She leaned on the glass.

"I'm not in the mood, especially if you're going to be insufferable."

" _Insufferable? Me? I'm simply calling to invite you to my debut party."_

"Why would I even consider that?"

" _You're my best friend! I would especially like for my predecessor to make an appearance."_

Of course it was rooted in appearances. It was what made a person shine or dim and Vernetta would surely be the one under a broken spotlight.

"That would be humiliating to me." Vernetta slowly answered.

Victoria laughed on the other side.

" _Everyone loves a graceful queen. You'll be better than all of us if you show up and bless me."_

Silence wasn't a positive sign. No, it only showed doubt and disinterest. What made Vernetta think that calling and meeting Victoria yesterday was a good idea? She was clearly a different woman and not for the better. But also, Brooklyn humbled herself. Victoria's always been, well... _Victoria_ , but a new light finally revealed her other layer.

" _C'mon V, I even invited your friends! If they love you so much, why not let them see the life you had?"_

Vernetta quieted herself, turning towards the tower of shelves and cupped the bottom of the telephone.

"I left to avoid everything that came with wealth."

" _From what you told me, your old ways seemed to have followed you._ "

Proclaiming her interest in one man, scandalously pursuing another. The idea of one, the attention of the other. It was always a tricky situation for a girl like Vernetta. She's certainly been around the Upper East Side but nothing in a too serious fashion. It always ended up with the men fighting for her; never have they once realized they were being used and banded against her instead. She was hoping to avoid such a mess.

"If you really want me to be seen as better, find me the best of both worlds." Vernetta sighed.

" _Elaborate for poor Victoria here."_

"A man who wants _and_ needs me. You said you invited my friends?"

" _Well the male ones, yes."_

"The last thing I need is a fight over me. Convince them to make a move or find me someone who will."

With that, Vernetta hung up the phone and hung her head low. Girlish romances were beginning to bore her; to take a toll on her time that was running out. It was '36 and she was twenty-two, an age well past marriage for someone of her status. Perhaps Victoria's party would pair chance and fate together. Steve wasn't going to do anything. She hadn't a clue why she decided to meet him earlier and indulge him with nothing. Bucky, well, he was complicated. He's been hidden since that night clearly avoiding her. Maybe Brooklyn wasn't the way to go, as much as she hated thinking about it.

"Hey, you okay?"

Vernetta spun around only to find Amelia at the counter. She had a worried look on her face: a soft smile with tired eyes.

"Yeah. You know talking about the future always makes one melancholy." Vernetta shrugged.

"Only if the future they thought upon was dreary. You'll be fine, I just know it."

* * *

Night was soon to be a reality. Automobiles piled in only to drive away until called upon at a later hour, dropping off living money to the doorstep of Barron House. Victoria personally stood with a man with the guestlist making sure everyone from obligatories to her most special guests had arrived. Maybe inviting old beaus of her best friend wasn't exactly the smartest thing. It had dawned upon her after the conversation. Victoria knew she had to fix the mistake. She just hoped it wasn't too short notice for him.

"So this is your grand plan?" Henry Livingston slithered to Victoria's side with bourbon in his grasp.

She simply scoffed, only offering him a side glance.

"I'm helping myself and my best friend. She's in a bad place and I'd like to extend my influences."

"How bad?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"Because Bobby thinks you're up to something." Henry purred into her ear. "Rounded up all his friends to keep an eye on her."

Victoria only saw some Vanderbilt heir checked off before turning towards Henry. Usually he was some suave jokester looking for a little fun up a girl's skirt. Yet the look in his eye conveyed his unusual serious tone.

"Who's here because of Bobby?"

"Me, Tinsley, Mortimer, Townsend, Conrad, some other hopefuls who want to rub elbows with us."

Victoria massaged her temples. Of course everyone would think she would be nasty and cruel. A true Queen Bee. Couldn't they have thought for a second that she genuinely cared for Vernetta? Her heart had swelled when she heard her voice for the first time in months. She knew her best friend, too, and could hear the pain and doubt over the phone and in person.

"We have common interests, _all_ of us." Victoria reassured Henry. "Vernetta asked me herself to help her in her issue."

She simply asked him to trust her. With an uneasy nod, she gained that. But Henry grabbed onto her arm before returning to the party.

"You have to let us in on it then." He whispered. "All of us."

* * *

Gloria played the piano as classically as she could. Donned all in expensive black, she blended with the instrument. The only white was her flesh and the keys she touched. Not even a sheet of music was found before her; all the songs she played was from memory. Victoria thought it would make her more mesmerizing: a young girl with talent. It was to her advantage as well. She often looked up for a signal from either Victoria or Charlotte. The former would check on her occasionally before wandering into another room. The latter strictly stayed in the main social area.

Gloria thought upon this as she played mindlessly. Two different women now controlled her for two entirely different motives under the guise of one. Both of the women stated that in order to help Vernetta, she must move on. Then it came time for the one-on-one planning. That was when Gloria truly saw what each wanted.

Victoria Barron, despite the reputation that precedes her, was merely a girlhood friend trying her best. Her version of helping Vernetta move on was to show her that her beau in the making wasn't right for her. Another man had her heart and vice versa, so that's where Gloria comes in to show the first man a good time. Appropriately, of course. She could live with that.

Charlotte Devereux's definition of Vernetta moving on was to humiliate her by having Gloria seduce the man she cared about the most. Victoria had, foolishly, explained it all for her. The maid realized that she and the former queen had something in common: they were now caught between two men. Vernetta wanted some Steve but needed some Bucky. Victoria wanted to free her from Steve whereas Charlotte wanted to humiliate her with Bucky. It was scandalous alright. Her morals have already chosen the path but as long as Victoria mingled and Charlotte stayed, she would have to move against her conscience.

The crowd silenced itself. Usually this meant someone important arrived. Gloria ceased her music and sat with a stiff back. People shuffled to make room for this entrance and she saw a pillar of white satin upon the earthy marble. Pale flesh and ashen blonde hair contrasted with deep red lips. Gloria had an idea of who this woman was. She was a bit surprised when the woman acted more introverted than she imagined with only a soft smile and weak wave. The crowd, however, was hungry for more. Vernetta Holbrook had been missing for over two months. Her sudden return would spark the dying fire of her popularity, that was for sure. Now Gloria only had to wait for one more guest. She continued where she left off.

* * *

They had just gotten out of the cab and Steve slowly began to venture in. Bucky, however, stayed behind and grabbed his sister's arm before she could walk off.

"Mind telling me why he's here?" He harshly whispered.

He loved Steve with all his heart, no doubt about that. Yet this was a very delicate situation. His features were hard compared to Hazel's easy-going expression.

"Don't worry about it. They need to move on before they commit. We can all work on Steve after, too."

She was extremely calm for his tastes. Bucky almost felt as if he were going to have a heart attack soon.

"Trust me, Buck," Hazel patted his cheek, "Victoria assured me everything will be fine. No hard feelings or anything. Just talking and sorting things out."

Well she certainly hoped. She has a feeling Victoria might have a change in plans just because it's Victoria. Hazel grabbed her brother's hand, prying it off before hooking her arm with his.

"Now let's go have a ball."

* * *

Victoria was glad that her doorman could listen to simple instructions. She was just informed by one of the servants of an expected arrival. She waltzed through the house and found three guests waiting at the door. They were dressed quite plainly and for that sole reason, Victoria's spirits soared.

"Oh I'm just so pleased you all arrived!" She exclaimed.

Hazel introduced Bucky and Steve to her but she could already guess who was who. It wasn't hard to figure out. The one that had to look like Hazel must be her brother. The one who didn't look like them had to be Steve. Yet Victoria smiled and shook their hands. They brought Steve along, the _other_ man. There had to be some logic behind it.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to lead you to the ball."

The two gentlemen took the lead whereas Victoria grabbed onto the girl.

"Care to explain?" She whispered through her tight-lipped smile.

Hazel indeed informed her of the plan. Turns out, great minds think alike. Victoria hadn't invited Steve, knowing his mother would talk. She simply told Vernetta she did and got Gloria but somehow didn't think it through on how he would be here. Luckily Hazel's plan patched hers up.

"You don't realize how much you saved this party, dear Hazel." Victoria exhaled.

She still doubted Bucky's competence. Yet since her prized guest hasn't arrived, she'll just see what happens.

They arrived to the ballroom to find many young and wealthy people surrounded by the sound of a gorgeous piano. They all buzzed like bees with the latest gossip and whatnot.

"Steve," the hostess lightly touched his shoulder, "are you a pianist?"

"I-er, no."

"Would you like to learn? Why, I have a girl just a year younger than you that's just as good as the legends!"

She motioned towards the piano, seeing Gloria in all her namesake. The girl was quite a pretty thing. Perhaps something could be born from this for Hazel's sake. Victoria made sure to be extra kind with Steve. She didn't know how delicate this would be; she just met the man.

"To think you would learn from the next Mozart at the best soiree in 1936. Would you be mad enough to pass that up?"

He looked to his best friend and his sister. They wanted to encourage him but could only muster silent smiles.

"I don't want to leave you guys all alone."

"Trust me, I have things planned for them as well." Victoria pounced. "Hazel will be in touch with some fashion designers. Bucky will be in touch with some women, lest he thinks cheating is okay."

In an instant, all three eyed them. Six eyes staring with such intensity that he began to shift uncomfortably.

"Okay, I get it!" He dodged their looks.

"I'm willing to extend my kindness to friends of Vernetta." Victoria now looked them all over. "Her friends are mine as well."

With a light pat, the hostess tugged her guests away, leaving the poor man alone. No looking back.

"Good cover." Hazel chuckled, but Victoria wasn't amused.

"I meant it." She talked over the crowd. "You think your hat was stupid, I found it genius."

The woman halted, spinning on her heel and planted an open hand on Bucky's chest.

"And I'm not pairing Vernetta up with some cheater."

Bucky looked ashamed but his nod affirmed her words. He sighed. Victoria smiled to her namesake.

"I'm glad we're on the same page."

* * *

Vernetta forgot just how fun parties could be. Once she stepped in, old friends such as Madeleine and Caroline have been practically glued to her side. Even her brothers friends whom she didn't think liked her were quite sociable this evening.

"The last time I saw you Max was when you were engaged." Vernetta craned her head. "Is it still in the making?"

Maxwell Townsend shook his dirty blonde head. His intense brow furrowed while his green-blue eyes rolled in their sockets.

"Yeah, well…" He laughed nervously. "Turned out she was using me for my money. I had high hopes for the lower classes, but it turns out they're just as greedy as us."

Everyone offered a sympathetic squeeze as he took a large gulp of champagne. Unlike Henry on his left, he was classy at parties.

"Who isn't? It's human nature." Caroline piped in.

"Well you've been in a poorer borough for some time now." Henry focused his attention on Vernetta. "How do you ward them off from your money?"

She chuckled for a minute, just as nervous as Maxwell was a moment before. She traced the edge of her glass and gazed into the bubbles.

"I may have told a little lie…" She mischievously smiled.

Her friends followed her reaction in suit. The girls eyed each other, the men lowered their heads and looked to Vernetta with a deep gaze.

"The great Vernetta Holbrook _lying_? Why that's madness!" Madeleine giggled.

"Well what am I supposed to do? Suffer like our dear Max here?"

Vernetta rested a hand on his forearm and squeezed. She also flashed a sincere smile and he reciprocated.

"I told them that I would lose my money next year if I didn't return to Manhattan life. Really, my parents don't care like usual. I just wanted to look for normal people who didn't care about my money."

"How's that working then?"

"Great. They only care about me, so that's nice."

"Wait," Maxwell held up a hand, "what you said implies you'd choose Brooklyn over Manhattan. Is that true?"

Her gloved hand reached up to her neck, rubbing skin and pearls alike.

"I'm not too sure now. Drama doesn't always have to be about wealth like it is here…"

With some coaxing, Vernetta explained the difference between her _want_ and _need_. Without names, of course. She told all but also refused to fully expose the full truth. It would be too easy to blackmail her if the need arises. No, the guest of honor was content on coming out on top in both her world and reality.

* * *

Bucky was told there was a gaggle of women waiting to educate him in the art of romance. Instead, a lone fiery redhead approached with a grand smile.

"I'm sorry to say I'm the only one who could make it tonight." She held out a hand. "I'm Charlotte."

"So you're going to talk to me about the dangers of cheating? Fucking unbelievable."

He was angry. He was only told he would be seeing Vernetta, not _this_. He didn't want to have to deal with the "better" folk or people getting into his business, yet girls like Hazel and Victoria working together sure knew how to strike every nerve in his body. Such factors only maimed his attraction for Vernetta. Hell, he can't even differentiate the lust and love he had. Anger clouded his judgement.

Charlotte was undeterred by his choice of vulgar words. Instead, she chose to move to his side and lock arms, leading him away from the party.

"I suggest saving the profanity for under the sheets. First lesson, always listen to what a woman has to say."

"But I already do-!"

" _Ahem_."

Bucky's hard jaw was like concrete at this point. He shut himself up but he didn't have to like it. He was already thinking of ways to get back at Hazel for this.

* * *

 **A/N: Ooh! Cliffhanger! I must confess, it was totally unintentional. Yet I racked up 10 pages worth of building up. It was time to start on a clean page without having to follow up a previous chunk and keep it flowing. It's hard to do that with 10 pages of different perspectives! Nevertheless, I hoped you enjoy it! Do what you guys do best and stay tuned for more drama!**


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